Love is in Bloom
by J Daydreamer
Summary: Myka Bering is not looking for love when Helena Wells steps into her life, but even as their newfound love blossoms like a rose, Myka can't help wondering if it is all too perfect to be real. This story is basically an adaptation of the movie Bed of Roses with some obvious alterations.
1. Chapter 1

The rain pounded against the windows of the large boardroom, but Myka Bering heard none of it as she sat in silence, vaguely listening to the meeting being held there. Her thoughts were decidedly elsewhere, specifically thinking of the two-year anniversary this very weekend would mark.

She startled out of her thoughts as Pete, her best friend sitting beside her, gently shook her chair to get her attention.

"Mykes, you've got a phone call," he gestured to the secretary standing in the doorway of the boardroom looking at Myka expectantly.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Bering," she spoke apologetically, "but your mother is on the line, she says it's urgent."

Myka sprang from her seat and followed the secretary out the door, Pete watching her leave with concern.

Retreating to her office to take the call, Myka frantically asked, "Mom, what is it?"

"It's your father, Myka. He's had a heart attack." She sank into her chair distraught as she listened to her mother give her more details.

"All right, I'll catch the first flight out of New York. I should be there late tonight," she spoke determined.

Pete heard the last sentence as he entered Myka's office.

"Everything okay, Mykes?"

She shook her head. "My father had a heart attack. I have to find Artie to ask for time off work," she replied as she began to move towards the door in search of him.

"Hang on, Mykes," Pete stepped forward, holding out his arms to grasp her shoulders and stable her. "I'll handle Artie, you just go home to your dad, all right? Take all the time you need."

Myka nodded. "Thanks, Pete," she said turning back to gather her coat and satchel before rushing out of her office. Pete watched her go, concern still marking his face.

* * *

Myka stumbled into her darkened apartment, dropping her bags unceremoniously onto the floor by the door, too weary to bother unpacking them at the moment. As tired as she was, and as late as it was, Myka knew sleep wouldn't be forthcoming. Her mind would not be still, thoughts troubling her. She removed her overcoat, placing it on the back of the sofa before switching on a lamp to emit a soft glow about the room. Pacing the floor, biting her lip, she finally settled at the window seat to reflect on her brief trip home.

The trip back to Colorado Springs hadn't been a pleasant one, though visits back rarely were where her family was concerned. She endured biting sarcasm from her father, condescension from her sister and excuses from her mother. Myka's relationship with them all was as strained as ever, and two days in their presence was enough to last her another two years. She sighed heavily at the thought.

Her thoughts turned to another aspect of her trip to Colorado, Sam. The weekend marked two years from his untimely death, and what seemed to be the end of any happiness for Myka.

Frustrated with her family, Myka managed to escape from them for a few hours during her visit. She found herself driving away from the hospital, away from her family, to Denver, where she wasn't at all surprised to find herself at a cemetery.

She didn't allow herself to cry as she stood beside Sam's graveside. Even her memories of that horrible day didn't draw tears. She and Sam had been so happy together. He had called her at work that morning, asking her to meet him for lunch because he'd had something he wanted to tell her. She never learned what it was.

She remembered sitting outside at a small café they frequented, enjoying the warm sunshine on her face, likely the last to experience as autumn fast approached, when she heard Sam call out her name from across the street. In his obvious excitement, he started to cross the street too early, just as the light began to change. A driver, anxious to beat the light, sped up just as Sam stepped out. It was over in the blink of an eye. Myka reached him just as he took his last breath.

Overcome with solitude, safe in the comfort of her own apartment, Myka couldn't stop the tears from falling. It had all been too much to bear. Her father's illness and apparent indifference coupled with the memory of Sam's death was so overwhelming, Myka braced herself against the window as sobs wracked her body.

Helena Wells often found her dreams troubled with nightmares. She avoided sleep whenever possible. The result being she worked hard during the day to occupy her thoughts, and at night, she took long walks, trying desperately to clear her mind.

Her walk tonight led her down a street she hadn't traveled in some time. The street was quiet, as expected, all the lights in the windows darkened, except one. Helena's gait slowed as she noticed a light spilling onto the sidewalk before her. She stopped entirely as she gazed above her to see that inside the lighted window sat a woman, sobbing uncontrollably.

Helena recognized that kind of anguish all too well, knew the kind of grief it must have caused. She swallowed back her own tears at the sight. Turning her collar up to guard against a slight breeze, Helena decided to keep the other woman company, even if she didn't realize Helena's presence. Time passed unheeded as Helena continued to watch the other woman in silence. She watched until her gaze became blurry with her own tears, she watched until the other woman finally dried her eyes and left the window, she watched until the light turned off, leaving her in darkness once more. Only then did she turn away to begin the long walk home, her mind whirling with thoughts.

* * *

Sleep had mostly eluded Myka during the night as she turned fitfully during what little sleep she did manage. Frustrated at last, she decided to get up and dress for work. She'd been working steady for an hour and a half before the office started to buzz to life with the sounds her coworkers laughing and talking, coffee pots brewing, copier machines running and phones ringing. The routine noise was oddly enough comforting to Myka, who despite the distraction work offered her, had spent too much of her morning lost in her thoughts.

She even managed a brief smile to herself as Artie passed her door with his usual gruff offer of "Good morning." There was comfort in some things never changing.

It wasn't long after Artie's good morning that her coworker and best friend Pete Lattimer dropped by her office to offer her a half-eaten donut.

"You know I don't eat sugar, Pete," she spoke.

"That's why I don't feel guilty offering you a half-eaten donut," he replied with a laugh. "How was the trip home?" he asked.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Myka replied not meeting his eyes.

"That good, huh?" he nodded knowingly. "How about we talk later, over drinks?" A nice vodka tonic for you and a cream soda for me, what do you say?" he asked grinning.

Myka tried to smile back but could only manage a sigh instead. "We'll see," she said turning back to her computer screen and Pete knew by her look of determination he had been dismissed for the time being.

"All right then," he spoke resignedly. "Catch you later, Mykes."

Myka sighed with guilty relief as her door closed behind Pete and once again she was enveloped in silence. The silence was short-lived however when Abigail, another coworker and friend, knocked on her door just before entering.

"You have a delivery at the receptionist desk, Myka," she spoke smiling.

"A delivery?" Myka asked perplexed. "What is it?"

Abigail smiled wider. "You'll just have to come to the front desk to find out," she replied conspiratorially.

Myka rubbed at the back of her neck in hesitation, and resigned at last, stood from her desk to follow Abigail down the hall. Distracted by her thoughts, Myka very nearly collided into Abigail as the other woman stopped abruptly to turn and smile at her.

She met Abigail's smiling face just before her gaze fell on the most beautiful arrangement of flowers she'd ever seen. Myka's clear green eyes widened in surprise and she looked at Abigail as if to say, 'these are for me?' Abigail, seeing her bewilderment, only nodded in confirmation. Reflexively Myka stepped forward and gently fingered the soft petal of a peony.

Myka looked back to Abigail. "Who?" she asked shaking her head in awe.

"There's a card there," Abigail replied pointing to the middle of the bouquet.

Grasping the card, Myka removed the note from the small envelope. In an elegant script, the card only said, 'For Myka Bering.'

"It doesn't say who sent it," she spoke to Abigail confused.

"It must be a secret admirer then," Abigail replied joyfully. "Quite an admirer, at that."

Myka scoffed. "There's no one, believe me," she spoke rather forlornly.

"Excuse me for being presumptuous, but these flowers say otherwise," Abigail replied with a grin as she turned away to return to her office.

Myka turned back to the flowers and couldn't help the faintest smile that graced her lips.

Someone cleared their throat behind her and Myka turned sharply to meet the dark insightful eyes of a beautiful woman with raven hair. The woman exuded elegance and didn't look like an ordinary delivery person, wearing slacks and a vest over a button down white blouse. Myka was only further surprised by the distinguished British accent emanating from the woman's voice.

"If you put a little 7-up in the water, the flowers should last longer. I know it sounds odd, but it truly works," she said smiling softly as she handed Myka a delivery slip to sign.

Myka tore her eyes from the woman's gaze long enough to sign the slip, their fingers lightly brushing as Myka returned the signed slip to her. Their eyes met as they shyly looked at one another.

"Enjoy your flowers," the woman spoke lowly with a slight nod of her head.

"I will, thank you," Myka replied back softly. Taking the large bouquet into her arms, she turned to walk back to her office, missing the fact that the delivery woman turned to watch her go, a smile of satisfaction on her lips.

Myka set the flowers on the end of her desk and sat staring at them, her fingers lightly brushing the mysterious card that came with them. Biting her lip, she finally picked up her phone to dial Pete's extension.

"Hey, Mykes, what's up?"

"Hey, Pete, you wouldn't have given me flowers by any chance?" she asked uneasily into the phone, and even as the words were out of her mouth, she knew the distinct unlikelihood of Pete ever sending her flowers, for any reason, let alone out of the blue.

Pete laughed lightly. "You know I love you, Mykes, but I can barely remember to give Kelly flowers, the woman I really love, on our anniversary, let alone give you flowers."

"Right," Myka breathed on a sigh. "I just had to be sure."

"So, someone gave you flowers, huh? Sounds like a secret admirer to me."

Myka huffed annoyed. "It's not an admirer, it's probably just a mistake," she said even though she knew it wasn't. The card said her name, the flowers were undeniably meant for her.

"Ah, Mykes, you're too hard on yourself. You're a good looking woman, anyone in this office could have sent you flowers…"

"I'm hanging up now," Myka warned just before cutting off Pete's ramblings.

Myka sat back in her chair and sighed. For now the sender of the flowers would remain a mystery – she had work to do.

* * *

Artie Nielsen prided himself on knowing his employees. He might be a bit gruff on the outside, appearing as though he cared little about the exploits of his employees, but really he cared a great deal about them.

He found himself feeling concerned now about his hardest working employee, Myka. She hadn't missed a day of work in the two years she worked for him, only to take off last Friday. And now here on Monday, as she gave the presentation, the normally professional and confident woman seemed distracted, distant, and…sorrowful. He didn't know the reason for her taking off Friday, but whatever happened, she was still feeling its effects.

Myka finished her part of the presentation and Pete took over. Artie listened half-heartedly to Pete as he continued to observe Myka. She sat silently, her eyes dropping to her hands in her lap, completely disengaged from the meeting. Her thoughts turned inward, to Sam, to her father, wondering why she could never seem to do anything right in his eyes.

As all the rest of the employees emptied the boardroom, Artie remained behind, watching Myka who still hadn't moved. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she was completely unaware she and Artie were alone.

"Take the day off, Myka," Artie's voice startled her out of her reverie.

She looked around the empty boardroom almost frantically.

"What sir?" she asked confused.

"I said take the day off," he said rising from the table, gathering paperwork.

"That's not necessary," she hastily replied as she too began to gather her notebooks.

"It's not up for debate. Take the rest of the day off, tomorrow too," he added in afterthought.

"Artie, I assure you, I don't need to…" she tried to explain moving towards him at the door.

"Good then. The rest of the week it is." Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose he looked up at her, his gaze softening. "Myka, don't argue with me. Something is bothering you. I don't know what it is and it's none of my business, but you need to take care of yourself.

"Being married to a doctor, I know all too well that things that bother us in the mind, can turn around and bother us in the body. I'd rather not see that happen to you," he said awkwardly giving her a gentle squeeze on her arm. "Besides, Vanessa would never forgive me if I allowed the well being of one of my employees to suffer when I could have done something, so take the time off," he said firmly.

"But the presentation next week, we have to prepare…" Myka tried one last attempt to argue.

"Despite both our reservations, Pete can handle it."

Myka raised a skeptical brow.

Artie nodded. "I know, I never thought I'd hear myself say those words either, but he can and will. You will go home, or go out, or whatever it is you need to do, but you will not step foot in this office again until next week. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," Myka spoke troubled.


	2. Chapter 2

Pete stepped inside Myka's office only to see her putting on her overcoat before shutting down her computer. He watched her sling her satchel over her shoulder just before reaching out for an elaborate arrangement of flowers.

He whistled. "Wow, you weren't kidding about the flowers, were you?"

Startled, Myka looked at Pete silently for a moment.

"So, you really have no idea who sent them?"

"Not a clue," she spoke obviously stressed.

"Hey, Mykes," Pete spoke concerned hearing the stress in her voice. "You okay? Are you sick or something?" he asked noticing that she wore her coat and bag as if she was leaving.

"No, I'm not sick," she sighed. "Artie is forcing me to take leave until next week."

Pete rolled his eyes. "Geez, sucks to be you then," he exaggerated.

Myka just glared at him.

"Ah, come on. No one's forcing me to take leave."

"Because with you it wouldn't be forced; you'd jump at the chance."

Pete considered her words. "True," he conceded. "But seriously, Myka, you could use the time off. I know going back home wasn't easy on you, despite the stiff upper lip resolve you present to the world. I know you, Mykes, and you just need to take a break from work, from family, from…"

"Friends?" she cut in quickly.

"Very funny. You can't get rid of me so easily."

"I can't get rid of you at all," Myka attempted to joke.

Pete stepped forward and embraced her in a brief hug. "It's going to be alright," he spoke into her mane of dark curls.

Myka felt herself tearing up at his kind words and abruptly pushed herself out of his grasp. "Thanks, Pete," she said looking away and turning to gather the flowers in her arms.

"Call me later if you need to," Pete spoke watching her go.

Myka just waved her hand, not looking back.

* * *

After changing out of her work skirt and blouse into something more casual, Myka walked into her kitchen and retrieved the bottle of 7-up she stopped for on the way home. Pouring a half a cup into the vase full of flowers she poured another small glass for herself. Standing in the kitchen, drinking the bubbly refreshment, she continued to stare curiously at the bouquet.

She couldn't keep from touching the flowers once more. There was something so serene about the arrangement. She felt oddly comforted when she looked at the beautiful flowers, as if her worries would all just fall away in the sight of such loveliness; but the fact remained, she still didn't know who sent them and why.

Finishing her drink, she took the vase in both hands and moved it to the coffee table in the center of her living room. Grabbing a favorite book from one of her many bookshelves, she took a seat on her sofa, stretched out and tried to lose herself in the words. It was no use. Her eyes kept drifting to the flowers, asking herself who could have possibly sent them to her and why.

With a sigh of frustration, she picked up the small card bearing only her name, looking for some clue. At the bottom of the card, in small print read Wells' Blooms with the address to the flower shop. At last she had the clue she needed. Rising from the sofa eagerly, Myka grabbed her coat and headed out of her apartment, determined to solve this puzzle.

* * *

A bell sounded over the door as Myka stepped inside the flower shop. Immediately her senses were overwhelmed with the scent of flowers of all variety, of every color, size and shape. Myka was no connoisseur of flowers, to be sure, but she was impressed by the variety. Roses, lilies, irises, daisies, orchids, carnations, tulips, and so many more Myka could only guess at their names. They were visually stunning, and the aroma of the little shop was both earthy and heavenly at once.

"May I help you?" asked a calm voice behind her. Myka turned to meet a man near her own age with an open, honest looking face.

"Yes," Myka spoke regaining her senses. "I had a delivery this morning, a beautiful arrangement of flowers from your shop," she smiled. "But there was no name as to who sent them. I wondered if I might find out, perhaps you have records somewhere of all your orders?" she asked hopefully.

The man shook his head. "It wasn't my delivery, but I'll see if I can find out. Claudia!" he called.

A young college-age girl with short red hair with a streak of green peered around the corner. "Yeah Steve?"

"Did you make a delivery this morning by chance? This woman is trying to find out who sent her some flowers."

"Nope, no deliveries this morning. I had to show up to class to take a two-hour physics exam. Such a drag," she intoned.

Steve turned back to Myka. "I think Helena must have handled that order. You'll have to speak with her," he said kindly.

"Helena? Is she here?"

The man studied Myka carefully. For whatever reason, the identity of the person sending the flowers to this woman was extremely important to her. He looked at his watch then glanced at Claudia who shrugged her shoulders in silent communication.

"Just after four o'clock; you should be able to catch her."

Myka looked at him with a question in her eyes.

* * *

Myka hadn't stepped inside the New York Public Library since she first moved to New York nearly two years ago. It was a shame really, considering how much she adored books, not to mention the architecture and interior were stunning.

Steve told her Helena came to this library every Monday afternoon for the four o'clock story time reading. Myka wondered why a grown woman would feel compelled to attend a story reading meant for young children, but once she found the small reading group and heard the voice of the older woman reading, she easily understood the appeal. The woman had a marvelous speaking voice that allowed the listener to truly embrace the words.

Myka enjoyed hearing the woman's voice almost as much as she enjoyed the sight of Helena enjoying the story. The dark-haired woman was beautiful in a way that was literally breathtaking and Myka found herself unable to tear her gaze away as she watched Helena's lips curve into a soft smile at something amusing in the story being read aloud.

The older woman finished reading the story and Myka stepped back to watch as excited children moved from their seats on the floor and scurried to parents waiting nearby who helped them gather up bags and coats. Helena seemed to watch the children as well, with something of longing reflected in her dark eyes. Myka continued to watch as Helena approached the woman giving the reading to shake her hand and speak with her.

Awkwardly approaching the two women in conversation, Myka could overhear a portion of their exchange.

"Mrs. Fredric, I so enjoyed your reading once again," the younger woman spoke warmly, her dark eyes shining.

"Thank you, Helena, it's always a pleasure to see you here," Mrs. Fredric replied kindly.

It looked as if Helena was about to say more when she glanced away from Mrs. Fredric to see Myka standing nearby. Mrs. Fredric turned to follow Helena's gaze, noticing Myka for the first time. Recognizing the two women must have business with each other, Mrs. Fredric smiled. "I'll leave you two alone," she spoke by way of excusing herself.

Helena only nodded as she met Myka's thoughtful gaze. She knew what Myka had come about and she looked forward to the impending conversation with something akin to dread.

Helena sighed and offered a faint smile to the serious woman before her. "Myka Bering," she spoke cautiously, almost as if she strained to remember the name when in fact she'd be hard pressed to forget it and its beautiful owner. "Shall we take a walk then?" she offered gesturing to leave the library.

* * *

The two women strolled through the park in an awkward silence. After several moments, Myka finally spoke on a sigh.

"You know why I'm here. Please, won't you tell me who sent me the flowers?"

"Is it so necessary to know?" Helena rebutted.

"Yes," Myka replied firmly.

"Please, just let it alone and enjoy the flowers," Helena offered a silent plea.

"But how can I when all I can think of when I look at them is who? Why? These flowers are so beautiful…and varied…and I can only imagine how expensive they must have been," Myka ranted. "Who would give me such a gift? Please won't you tell me?" she asked with a soft plea.

Helena ran her fingers through her raven tresses in nervous habit, once again meeting the other woman's clear green eyes. "Myka, I can't," Helena spoke adamantly as she sat down on a nearby bench looking somewhat defeated by where this conversation was going.

Myka crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm going to need more than that," she scoffed. "Why can't you tell me?"

Helena met Myka's inquisitive eyes once more. "It was important to the sender that their identity remain anonymous. I'm sure if your situations were reversed, you'd want the same anonymity," she spoke quietly.

"That isn't likely," Myka argued and when Helena raised a questioning brow, she continued. "I wouldn't send flowers to someone anonymously, thereby driving the intended so crazy with not knowing they can't even enjoy them, thus defeating the purpose of such a gift in the first place."

Helena remained tight-lipped, averting her gaze.

Myka ducked her head, trying to meet Helena's eyes. "You're not going to tell me?"

Helena shook her head slowly.

Exasperated, Myka turned and left. Helena watched her go with longing and regret.


	3. Chapter 3

Myka startled awake from a dream. Unable to recall the exact details of it, the dream nevertheless left her feeling unsettled and restless.

She moved through her dark apartment to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. Intending to go back to her bedroom with the water, she stopped when the flowers on the coffee table caught her eye as they seemed to be touched by the moonlight streaming through the window.

Myka felt herself drawn to the flowers and once more fingered the soft petals fondly. Even though she didn't know the identity of the sender, she had to admit it was a comfort to know someone cared enough about her to send them. She just wished she knew who had sent them and why.

Still holding her glass of water, she stepped to the window to gaze up at the moonlit night, smiling softly to herself.

Helena was not surprised when her nightly walk led her to Myka's street once more. Nor was she surprised to find herself stopping just across the street from her window to gaze up once again. The light wasn't on tonight, and Helena sincerely hoped the other woman was sleeping well; healing from whatever pain she was feeling.

She stood silently for several moments until she was startled to see Myka once again stand before the window. Myka's face was upturned, no doubt taking in the beauty of the moonlit night. Helena had been admiring it herself earlier.

The soft moonlight illuminated Myka's gentle features in such a way that Helena couldn't contain the gasp the escaped her lips in reaction to Myka's beauty. Simultaneously, almost as if Myka heard her gasp, she looked down to see Helena staring up at her.

Shocked, Myka dropped her glass of water and looked down quickly as the water spilled over her carpet. Glancing back out the window, she saw Helena swiftly walk away.

* * *

Myka Bering was a determined woman who couldn't let a puzzle remain unsolved. She was more determined than ever to find out who sent her the most beautiful arrangement of flowers she'd ever seen, but now she also had the added mystery of Helena's presence outside her window the night before. She was sure there was more to this flower delivery than Helena would admit, and Myka was determined to find out every detail.

Which is why, rather than being inside the comfort and warmth of her own apartment, Myka now found herself standing around a corner across from Wells' Blooms, shivering in the crisp fall morning, waiting for any sign of life from within the shop. She cradled a paper cup of coffee in her gloved hands, willing for anyone to show if only so she could get out of the cold for a moment.

She was just starting to become numb with cold when an old-fashioned truck drove up, with the store's name on the side, parking along the curb. Myka watched as Helena exited the truck to walk to the front door of the shop.

Helena was just about to unlock the door when she had the uncanny feeling she was being watched. Sharply turning her head, she just caught sight of brunette curls before they disappeared behind the corner. _Myka_. The woman was nothing if not determined, Helena mused. She sighed resolving herself to her fate once and for all. She expected nothing less from Myka, considering she caught Helena on the street below her apartment the night before. She owed her an explanation if nothing else. Abandoning the shop, Helena ran across the street to confront Myka.

Myka was startled to see Helena look back at her, and then leave the door to rush across the street. Realizing Helena was coming to her, Myka suddenly panicked, not knowing what Helena planned to do. After all, Helena could probably be considered a stalker after last night. Frantically, Myka grappled for the taser she kept in her purse (a gift from Pete), figuring it was better to be safe than sorry.

A moment later, Helena came around the corner, startling Myka just as she stepped out, taser in hand.

"Hello," Helena spoke just as Myka, uncomfortable by the woman's sudden close proximity, jutted out the taser as if to shoot.

Helena held up her hands in surrender, looking first at the taser then back to Myka. Her dark eyes held concern and a hint of amusement. "I won't hurt you, darling," she spoke reassuringly.

Myka remained speechless.

"Why don't we go somewhere to talk?" Helena asked, her hands still raised in the air.

Myka raised a skeptical brow.

"It's a public place. I assure you, you'll be perfectly safe," Helena continued and watched in relief as Myka slowly lowered the taser, Helena's raised hands matching her movements until they were back down at her side. Helena smiled softly even as Myka frowned.

* * *

Myka looked around the small, warm diner with vague interest.

"Are you sure you won't have something?" Helena asked. "Leena makes the most wonderful scones and she's the only person I know to make a decent cup of tea in this city," Helena tried to coax.

Myka, recognizing a diversion when she heard one, only shook her head. Cutting straight to the chase, she spoke, "I don't really appreciate you showing up on my street like that last night. What were you doing there?"

Helena sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. In the short amount of time spent with the woman, Myka knew this was a nervous habit of hers and watched fascinated as Helena's hair fell perfectly back in place.

Just when Myka feared she wasn't going to get an answer out of the woman once again, Helena surprised her for the second time within the hour when she finally did speak.

"I…sent you the flowers, Myka," she said meeting green eyes with a look of trepidation.

"You? You sent me the flowers?" she repeated trying to understand and failing miserably. "I don't…I don't understand," Myka tried to grasp the meaning of Helena's words. "We've never even met…how could you…how did you know…why…why would you do that?" Myka suddenly found herself unable to form a coherent statement and sighed in frustration. She decided to remain silent, and the look she gave Helena implored her to go on.

Once again, Helena couldn't help but run her fingers through her hair, almost as if trying to gather courage, or perhaps just the right words. "I like to take these walks…often late at night," she began. "It's so peaceful at night, when most people are locked away safe behind darkened windows to sleep and to dream," she smiled softly, meeting Myka's steady gaze.

"One, night, as I was walking, I noticed all the windows were dark as usual…except one. I looked up at the lighted window and I saw you, Myka," she said averting her gaze. "You were crying, sobbing actually," she spoke quietly and Myka felt her throat constrict at the memory of the night Helena spoke of.

Looking up once more to meet Myka's eyes, Helena continued. "And I wondered, what it was that made you so sad."

Myka looked away from Helena, her emotions overwhelming her. Helena watched as Myka brushed away an errant tear.

In a lighter tone Helena spoke, "So, the next morning, I followed you to your office, found out your name from the receptionist and delivered the flowers to you."

"So, you just…made this amazing arrangement of flowers for someone you never even met?" Myka asked incredulous.

Helena nodded.

"I still don't understand…why?"

Helena sighed. Her dark eyes meeting Myka's bright ones, she spoke, "Perhaps I can show you?"

"What do you mean?" Myka asked confused.

"Spend the day with me," Helena spoke boldly and watched as Myka's green eyes widened in further surprise. Helena shook her head and laughed at herself. "I'm sorry, it was foolish of me to ask. You of course must have your own work to attend to rather than run flower deliveries with me," Helena turned away suddenly embarrassed by her request.

Myka considered Helena's invitation, and realized, being on forced leave, she didn't have her own work to attend to; and the thought of staying inside her quiet apartment alone all day was unappealing in the face of Helena's offer.

"Actually," Myka spoke cautiously and couldn't help noticing the glimmer of hope that ignited in Helena's dark eyes at her words, "I don't have to work today. I could accompany you, if you really want me to," she finished awkwardly, not quite meeting Helena's eyes.

Helena grinned broadly. "Aces." Myka couldn't help the shy smile that crept across her face at Helena's obvious elation. She couldn't remember the last time she was the reason behind someone else's smile as she was now for Helena. It felt good for a change.

* * *

The two women spent the entire morning delivering flowers. Red roses for a woman offered in apology; a basket of mixed flowers, daisies, tulips, and hyacinth sent to new parents, a camellia bush for an elderly woman for her birthday. The deliveries continued, each one unique, but all with the same result. The people receiving the flowers were all grateful to take in the beauty and comfort the flowers provided. Myka was beginning to understand and solve this puzzle.

Lunchtime found the two women back at Leena's. "Do you always eat here?" Myka asked not without a hint of humor in her voice.

Helena was glad to hear the humor and replied somewhat sheepishly. "A force of habit, and comfort too I suppose. Leena is a dear friend of mine."

Leena stood behind the counter and silently watched the two women talk over their lunch of soup and sandwiches. It had been a long time since she'd seen that smile cross Helena's face and only hoped the relationship building between the two beautiful women would be a lasting one.


	4. Chapter 4

Helena and Myka strolled side by side through the park in the late afternoon. All the deliveries had been made and Helena suddenly couldn't bear the thought of separating from Myka, so suggested a walk to prolong their time together. She sighed with relief when Myka agreed.

"If you don't mind my asking, what brought you to America?" Myka asked genuinely curious.

"How do you know I'm not from here?" Helena smirked as she watched Myka blush and stammer.

"I just thought…your accent…"

Helena laughed. "It can be rather a nuisance, this accent of mine," she conceded.

"No, it's lovely," Myka spoke quickly and instantly blushed deeper as Helena raised an eyebrow.

"Duly noted," she smiled watching Myka's blush spread.

"Forget I asked," Myka tried to redirect Helena's attention away from her.

"No, please," Helena spoke, gently squeezing Myka's arm trying to offer comfort. "I don't mean to tease you so mercilessly, even if that blush on you is lovely."

Myka wouldn't meet Helena's eyes as she continued to walk, her eyes focused on the ground in front of her.

"You're absolutely right, I'm not from this city. I was born and raised in London. But life has a way of altering our plans and after an important event in my life, I felt pressure from my family to go in a direction I didn't want. Looking back on it now, I know they meant well, but what they wanted and what I needed were very different things, so I decided a change of scenery would do us all good. So, I gathered my most valuable belongings, boarded a plane and came to New York, figuring it was as good a place as any for a new start."

"I can understand that," Myka spoke softly as she once again met Helena's eyes. She hurried their pace a little, until coming to a flowerbed and slowing to view the flowers.

They have quite a good collection of chrysanthemums this year," Helena remarked gesturing to the flowers.

Myka nodded. "They look so cheerful."

Helena laughed lightly and Myka turned at the sound. "It's funny you would say that, because chrysanthemums actually mean 'cheerful' generally speaking. Of course, depending on the color, the meaning can differ."

Myka looked at her in wonderment. "You know each flowers' meaning?"

It was Helena's turn to blush under Myka's awed stare. "A bit of a hobby really. Victorians were notorious for giving flowers to loved ones understanding the significance behind them. It just makes a gift of flowers all the more memorable and meaningful."

"Like red roses are for passion and white for mourning," Myka added.

"Yes, exactly," Helena beamed.

"So, what do the different colors for chrysanthemums mean then?" Myka asked truly curious.

"Well, let's see. The bronze ones here mean excitement, though I'm not so sure the color matches the meaning, in my opinion," she said with a slight frown. "But the white reflect truth and the yellow mean 'secret admirer'."

Myka nodded at her explanation of each color. "They look lovely together," she said softly.

"They do," Helena agreed, "but I'm afraid they'll be gone soon."

Myka looked up confused.

"The weather," Helena explained, "it's starting to chill."

Myka nodded. "Have you always been so interested in flowers?"

"Yes, I suppose I have. When I was a young girl, my family and I lived in London, but often we would spend our holidays with an old family friend in the country. His name was Cataranga and he had a fair bit of property, that included a greenhouse for growing plants of every variety and color you can imagine. I was fascinated with that greenhouse, and would spend hours there with Cataranga, planting and watering flowers to my heart's content. He was a very dear friend to me and so I've always associated flowers with him and the kindness he showed me I suppose."

"Do you have a favorite flower then?" Myka asked.

There was a moment's silence as Helena collected her thoughts, caught off guard by the question. She knew she shouldn't be; it was an obvious question considering she was in the flower business, but she still hesitated before answering.

Myka felt her hesitation and looked at Helena with concern. Helena smiled faintly, looking suddenly pale.

"Helena, you don't have to tell me," Myka quickly spoke reassuringly.

Helena smiled again, with sincerity at seeing the concern in Myka's eyes. "It's alright, it's just no one has asked me that question in some time. It's difficult to choose just one favorite flower, and I actually have two. "Lilacs and…Forget-me-nots."

"Why?" Myka asked gently knowing Helena knew that question would follow.

"They're both beautiful flowers, of course and they have lovely meanings. "Forget-me-not is rather self-explanatory, 'remember me always,' and though lilacs can have different meanings or interpretations, my favorite is the meaning Cataranga taught me, 'first love.' He sent lilacs to me at a very important time in my life and I've never forgotten," she spoke softly.

Clearing her throat briefly to rid the current restriction she felt, Helena asked, "What's your favorite then?"

Curious as she was to know the entire story about each flower's significance to Helena, Myka didn't want to push and make the woman uncomfortable, so relented to Helena's question.

"Oh, I'm not really sure. I haven't given it much thought," she spoke almost apologetically. "Roses, I guess," she finally concluded. "Pretty boring right?"

"Nothing boring about a classic," Helena affirmed. "Roses have great significance to many people."

The women fell into another silence before Helena spoke once more, trying to learn more about the quiet woman beside her.

"Are you from the city, Myka?"

"No, I was raised in Colorado Springs."

"Is that where your family is then?"

"Yeah. My parents own a little bookstore there, called Bering and Sons."

"A bookstore, how lovely," Helena spoke enthusiastically. "How many brothers do you have?"

Myka grimaced at the question and hoped Helena didn't notice. She sighed. "No brothers, just me and a younger sister. My father thought the title sounded classier," she spoke with a hint of bitterness.

Helena did notice the grimace however and tone of voice that accompanied Myka's answer and easily realized the topic of Myka's family wasn't a pleasant one.

"You know, a friend of mine received some once, roses I mean, that were a pale lavender…" Myka quickly changed the subject.

"Sterling Roses," Helena nodded, knowing Myka was diverting their conversation and allowed her. "They're thorn less."

"Yes, that's right," Myka spoke content she managed to divert Helena's attention to her family, or at least that Helena let her, she suddenly realized.

"But I think a rose without thorns is just…too perfect." Myka spoke.

Helena thought about Myka's words. "Perhaps," she acquiesced, "but I also think, everyone is entitled to a moment of too much perfection in their life," she said firmly meeting Myka's green eyes.

Myka turned away from the intensity of Helena's stare, not quite understanding what the feeling was that caused her heart to race within her chest.

"Well, this is my flat," Helena gestured to the building behind her as they came to a stop.

"Oh," Myka looked up surprised, not realizing the time that had passed between walking through the park to arrive at Helena's apartment building. Myka bit her lip and shifted nervously rubbing the back of her neck. She didn't know what to say, or if she should make plans to see Helena again; because she suddenly realized, she didn't want this to be the end of their…acquaintance.

Helena observed Myka closely, knowing her thoughts were warring within herself. Cautiously she spoke, "You could come up, if you'd like."

Myka looked at her wide-eyed. She certainly hadn't expected such an invitation and rubbed the back of her neck nervously once again.

Helena watched her with trepidation. "You don't have to, of course, its just…there's something I'd very much like to show you and it's not going to be around much longer," she quickly explained.

Intrigued by her explanation, with a short nod of her head Myka followed Helena inside.

* * *

Stepping inside a spacious loft apartment, Myka took in her surroundings. The furnishings were simple and elegant, and rather sparse, except for a wall lined with bookshelves. A lover of books herself, Myka was about to inspect Helena's library when a photograph caught her gaze. Inexplicably drawn to it, Myka stepped closer for a better look.

The photograph was of a little girl, picking a small flower. The photograph was all in silhouette so the girl's features were not discernable, only a dark image against a blue sky.

Noticing where Myka's attention was drawn, Helena quietly stepped beside her, grasping the locket she wore around her neck. "Photography was another one of my hobbies, at least for a little while," she spoke quietly, briefly meeting Myka's eyes before walking away.

Before Myka could question her further, Helena pulled out a moving ladder from her bookshelves and moved it center in the room. Climbing the ladder to the top, she pulled down another ladder from the ceiling.

Looking down at Myka she spoke, "It's up here, what I wish to show you."

Myka looked up at Helena puzzled, but followed her regardless.

Propping open the skylight, Helena stepped out onto the rooftop. She turned back to offer her hand to help Myka through the window. Myka looked around briefly, and then noticed an archway that seemed to lead to a pathway. She looked back at Helena for confirmation and the other woman proudly nodded and encouraged Myka to enter.

Myka was stunned by what she saw before her. A garden full of late blooming flowers, grass and even small trees lay before her among the rooftops of the city. The sun was beginning its descent in the sky; it's golden light setting off the garden perfectly.

Myka gasped in awe. "You did this?"

"I did," Helena answered simply.

Myka stared at Helena. "You're Wells; you own the flower shop," she spoke softly, realization dawning.

Helena nodded. "Indeed."

"But you deliver flowers?" Myka asked confused.

"I like to see people's faces when they're given flowers. To see them when they're celebrating, or making up from a fight…even when they're grieving," she spoke softly. "There is something so pure and raw and beautiful about those emotions" she spoke looking away a moment.

Meeting Myka's eyes once more she continued, "And your face when you saw your flowers was…breathtaking," she said on a whisper. "Shocked and confused…and I think…comforted, perhaps to know someone cared."

Myka looked down at her words, not sure how she felt about the woman in front of her being able to read her so well. "The flowers you gave me, what were their meanings?" she asked looking back up.

It was Helena's turn to look away, uncomfortable at being found out. "If I recall correctly…pink tulips for caring, poppies for consolation, peonies for healing, irises for inspiration, ferns for sincerity, apple blossoms, for promise, among various others," she spoke hurriedly, looking away suddenly bashful.

"Apple blossoms for promise? What kind of promise?" Myka asked realizing that meaning didn't exactly fit with the others.

"I'm not sure," Helena stammered under Myka's intense gaze. "Perhaps simply a promise to one day, wake up to a different world, a better one," she smiled gently.

"Helena," Myka spoke in a whisper, her emotions overtaking her. Unable to resist the feeling building up in her all afternoon in the presence of the remarkable woman before her, Myka reached her hand out to gently cup Helena's cheek and leaned forward to meet Helena in a soft kiss.

She pulled back just as their lips met to read in Helena's dark eyes such tenderness that Myka allowed their lips to meet again more insistent. Myka's hand still gently cradled Helena's cheek, as Helena lightly placed her hands on Myka's waist to pull her closer.

Too soon for Helena's liking, Myka pulled away breathless and apparently remorseful. "I have to go," she stammered as she began to turn away. "I'm sorry," she called out, hardly looking back.

Helena still feeling Myka's kiss on her lips, stood stunned by the turn of events and could only watch her go.


	5. Chapter 5

When the doorbell sounded, Myka reluctantly left her work at the sink. Approaching the door with hesitation, she looked through the peephole and with a sigh of relief let Pete inside.

Without even saying hello, Myka hurried back to the kitchen where the garbage disposal sounded.

"Well, hello to you too," Pete spoke slightly agitated as he followed Myka to the kitchen.

He watched in uncharacteristic silence as Myka resumed feeding flowers down the disposal. Pete looked baffled at the image before him.

"Mykes, what are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied jamming down another flower.

Pete shut off the disposal. "Myka, talk to me. I haven't heard from you all day. I left four messages on your cell phone, you never called back. I thought you'd disappeared off the face of the earth or something. Now, what's going on?"

The obvious concern on Pete's face and the distress in his voice was almost enough to cause Myka to break. Instead she spoke, "Shouldn't you be home with Kelly?"

"Nice try," Pete spoke firmly grabbing her arm to lead her to the sofa in the living room. "Kelly had an emergency call at the animal clinic, so I'm all yours tonight."

"Lucky me," she tried sarcasm.

Pete wasn't having it. "Talk to me."

Myka frowned in a way that crinkled her nose, and then sighed heavily. "I found out who sent me the flowers."

"Yeah?" Pete asked encouragingly.

Myka nodded. "I found out who it is and she's wonderful."

"Okay, so great. You met this wonderful woman, and she sent you flowers, that you're now trying to dispose of…" He looked confused. "Help me out here, Mykes, why is this a terrible thing exactly?"

"Because I…work for a living." Pete looked at her as if she'd grown two heads, so Myka continued. "I'm very good at my job."

"No one said you weren't…" Pete spoke still not sure where she was going with this line of conversation.

"So, I don't have time in my life for someone wonderful."

Pete laughed incredulously. "Okay, Mykes, you're like the smartest person I know, but that is truly…dumb."

Myka looked down at her hands folded in her lap, knowing Pete was right. She hated when Pete was right. Glancing back up to look into her best friend's face, she whispered, "I'm not ready for this, Pete. Sam…"

"Was over two years ago," Pete finished her sentence. "And a whole different story. What happened with Sam wasn't your fault, you can't keep blaming yourself for something you had no control over."

"But what if I did?" she argued.

"Mykes, it was a freak accident. You had absolutely no control over what happened that day."

There were tears in her eyes and she impatiently brushed them away, nodding at Pete's words. In her head, she knew Pete was right, but her heart had a difficult time agreeing. If Sam's attention had been on watching traffic rather than her…

"Tell me about this Ms. Right of yours," Pete interrupted her thoughts. "It's obvious she's already had a huge impact on you," he smiled and Myka couldn't help the soft smile that played on her lips at the mere mention of the other woman.

Before Myka could say a word however, her doorbell sounded again, startling them both.

"Oh my god, it's her!" Myka cried as she frantically leapt off the sofa and hid behind a wall adjacent to the living room and out of sight of the doorway.

Pete stood, surprised by Myka's actions. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Just ask who it is," Myka whispered loudly from behind the wall.

Pete was willing to comply. "Who is it?" he called to the door.

"Delivery," answered a young woman's voice.

Pete looked at Myka skeptically. Myka nodded. "That's what she does," she affirmed.

"Your girl's a delivery woman?" he asked surprised once more. Myka just shrugged her shoulders and gestured for him to continue at the door.

"What is it?" Pete asked.

"Flowers," the voice called again.

"Just send her away," Myka begged Pete.

"But she's got flowers," he whined. "Never mind, I've seen what you do with those."

"Pete!"

"Can I at least take a look at this wonder woman of yours, huh?" he said walking to the door to open it. Pete glanced at the woman behind the door quickly, surprised yet again by whom he saw.

"Delivery?" the girl asked him unsure why this was taking so long for what should be a simple delivery.

Pete closed the door hurriedly and stepped back into the living room. "Is Ms. Right about 5'3", looks to be nineteen, has short red hair with a streak of green?" he asked confused.

Myka's face matched his confusion.

Taking her reaction as a no, Pete returned to the door, finally taking the flowers from the girl, tipping her and closing the door after her before stepping back into the living room with Myka.

Pete handed Myka the box and she carefully opened it to reveal a dozen lavender Sterling roses inside. Her heart began to beat erratically at the sight. Seeing a small note on top, she the opened the envelope to read aloud, "Thank you for a day of too much perfection." It was signed Helena.

Myka sat back on the sofa where Pete soon joined her. "I know I haven't met Ms. Right yet, but judging by your…unusual reaction to her gift this evening, I'd say this woman is your one, Mykes," Pete said seriously.

"I only just met the woman, Pete," Myka intoned.

"So? What does time have to do with love? I mean, look at me. I married Amanda after dating her for three years through college; we ended up divorced. Then I met Kelly, we went out only a few months, got married, and we're still married."

Myka shook her head. "We're very different people you and I, Pete and this woman is not my 'one', she can't be," she said adamantly, denying her feelings. Truthfully she was terrified by how much she felt for this woman in such a short amount of time.

"She's just wasting this all on the wrong girl, I'm afraid."

Pete just sat back and watched his best friend as she firmly placed her walls back up around herself. The sight made him feel helpless. "Myka, if anyone deserves happiness in their life, it's you. Don't let fear get in the way." Standing from the sofa, he leaned over and placed a kiss on top of her head. "Call me if you need anything," he said as he left her apartment.

Myka was left alone in silence once more. The silence in her apartment didn't last long however, as a half hour on the dot from the last flower delivery, came another delivery of the same pale lavender roses, followed by another dozen a half hour after that, and another a half hour after that…

The deliveries continued until midnight, then resumed again at five in the morning.

* * *

"Pete, this is crazy, I don't know what to do," Myka ranted over the phone shortly after five o'clock in the morning. A time of day Pete did not appreciate being woken at.

The doorbell sounded again for the umpteenth time. "Do you hear that? That's another delivery! They're working in shifts. What should I do, Pete?" she asked frantic.

"Marry her, Mykes," he replied groggily. "Marry her so she can be the one you rant to at five in the morning, not me."

"Not helpful, Pete."

"It would sure help me," he argued just before hearing the distinct click of the phone line going dead as Myka hung up on him. Pete grinned to himself. "Oh yeah, Myka's got it bad," he chuckled to himself.

By late morning, Myka knew she had to take matters into her own hands. The flowers were beautiful, the gesture even more so, but she knew Helena was just wasting her time; Myka wasn't the woman for her. Despite how perfect Helena might appear to Myka at the moment, she was convinced she wasn't perfect for Helena, and she was determined to set things right.


	6. Chapter 6

"HG, I'm telling you, you're going to scare her off," Claudia spoke in between a yawn.

"I'm quite sure I've all ready done that, I'm afraid," she agreed running her fingers through her hair. "But I can't seem to stop either. I only just met her, I don't want to lose her," she spoke softly.

Claudia gave her a sympathetic look.

Steve!" Helena called. "Did you find anymore roses at Rebecca's?"

"You cleaned out her store hours ago, HG, sorry," he replied.

Helena tapped her finger against her lips, thinking. "What about Jack's little shop downtown?" she asked hopefully.

"You cleaned him out too. HG, I think it's time to let it go," Steve spoke gently.

At just that moment, the bell sounded over the door and there stood Myka, the very person of Helena's affection. Myka was a little startled to come in upon all three coworkers at once, surrounded by more Sterling roses laid out on every bare surface of the shop.

Steve took his cue and silently motioned for Claudia to follow him out of the shop. "Just be honest," Steve whispered to Helena as he left.

"Good luck, HG," Claudia patted Helena swiftly on the shoulder before hurrying after Steve to vacate the shop.

Helena looked sheepishly at Myka, her nerves getting the better of her. She didn't know what it was about Myka, but the woman captivated her like no other.

"HG?" Myka raised an eyebrow in question.

Helena laughed lightly. "A nickname. My parents thought they were very clever giving me initials of HG paired with a surname of Wells."

"I love his work," Myka replied as her thoughts started spinning, trying to figure out the odds that she'd meet a woman with the same name as her favorite writer.

"As do I," Helena replied as they stared at one another.

"My dad used to read me his books when I was a kid. One of my happier childhood memories actually," Myka frowned at herself wondering why she was suddenly opening up about her childhood to a near stranger. She supposed it was easier than trying to apologize for kissing the other woman, though if she was being perfectly honest with herself, she was finding it difficult to be truly sorry about it at all.

Myka sighed in frustration with herself. The beautiful woman before her had a way about her that made Myka feel oddly, both completely safe and as if she was about to step off a ledge. She felt unbalanced in her presence to say the least.

Reading the conflicting thoughts racing through Myka's mind, Helena spoke trying to relieve the sudden tension. "Well, I think I managed to clean out the city of every Sterling Rose available," she smiled softly.

Myka returned the smile. "They're all in my apartment."

Helena nodded as silence descended upon them again, neither knowing quite what to say, because there was too much to say.

Helena gathered a single rose and offered it to Myka, who took it gently between her fingers. Soft brown eyes met gentle green ones once more.

"I know I hardly know you, but yesterday was one of the most pleasant days I've spent in some time," Helena admitted softly.

When Myka failed to make a reply, Helena apologized, "I'm sorry, I won't bother you anymore."

Myka looked regretful and reached out to briefly touch Helena's arm to have her look at her. "You're not…bothering me." Her thoughts were sidetracked as she noticed another photograph on the wall behind Helena, similar to the one in Helena's apartment. It was of a little girl, again all in silhouette, blowing dandelion seeds that caught on the wind.

Helena noticed Myka's sudden distraction and turned to see the cause. Reflexively grasping the locket she wore around her neck, Helena spoke softly. "Christina, my daughter, loved to make wishes on those dandelion seeds," she smiled weakly at Myka.

Myka was taken aback, the surprise on her face evident.

"Photography, as I mentioned, used to be a bit of a hobby for me, especially when I had so lovely a model as my Christina. She loved flowers," Helena made a sound that could have been a sob.

When Myka remained silent, Helena turned away and continued her explanation.

"I wasn't always in the flower business," Helena spoke. "I used to work as an architect. The firm I was with was very successful, and I spent many hours working for the company, trying to make my mark on the world," she frowned. "When I wasn't working, I was always with Christina," she smiled warmly. "We'd spend afternoons and weekends in the park, just wandering, exploring, sharing adventures, reading stories."

As Helena paused, collecting her thoughts, Myka noticed her grip around her locket become tighter and knew this wasn't an easy story for Helena to share. Myka only hoped that she was strong enough to hear it.

"Christina loved stories, more than anything," Helena spoke emphatically. "We used to attend Mrs. Fredric's story readings every Monday afternoon together. I employed a nanny for Christina, Sophie, who would pick her up from school everyday and take her home until I could get off work.

"Mondays, instead of going home, Sophie would walk her to the library, where I would meet them at four o'clock. Sophie would go home and Christina and I would enjoy a good story together, before we too went home."

Helena's eyes began to tear at the memories she was reliving and Myka felt a longing to hold her close, but remained just out of reach.

"On one particular afternoon, two years ago now, I waited on the library steps promptly at four o'clock, expecting for Christina and Sophie to arrive. They were late, when they had never been late before. I knew something was wrong. Unable to reach Sophie on her cell phone, I began to walk in the direction I knew they would come from; then I began to run.

"It had been raining steadily all day. A speeding driver found himself unable to stop his vehicle on the wet pavement as Christina and Sophie attempted to cross the street. Sophie suffered a broken leg and fractured ribs. Christina fared far worse," Helena spoke as her tears cascaded down her face. "Everything that ever mattered in my life was gone in a single moment of time."

Myka couldn't ignore the parallel of Christina's story to Sam's and began to tremble slightly at the similarities. Her heart broke at the sight of this obviously strong and loving woman, so shattered and devastated.

Without thought, Myka moved to Helena's side and embraced her. The two women clung to each other, Myka only pulling away slightly to look into Helena's eyes just before softly placing a lingering kiss on her lips. Helena deepened the kiss, and before long they separated, both breathless.

As Myka rested her forehead against Helena's she earnestly asked, "One question…why me?"

Helena gently caressed Myka's cheek with a single finger. "I finally looked up, and your light was on; shining against the darkness." Myka resumed their kiss.

* * *

They spent the day together, talking and sharing stories. The two women realized they shared much in common. Both had well meaning but submissive mothers and stern, demanding fathers. Myka learned Helena had an older brother, Charles, back in England she wasn't particularly close to and Helena heard about Myka's younger sister, Tracy and their distant relationship.

Helena shared more stories about Christina and Myka spoke about Sam. Helena too was struck by the similarities of Sam's accident to Christina's and held Myka closer to her as she spoke of him.

Myka learned all about Helena's dear friend in England, Woolly, her close friendship with Leena, and her employees, Steve and Claudia who she considered family. Helena heard all about Pete, Myka's best friend since college, his wife, Kelly, about her friendship with Abigail and her gruff but caring boss Artie and his lovely wife Vanessa.

By nightfall, they knew practically all they could know about one another, and they didn't wish to part. Always before, the idea of falling into bed with someone they'd only known a few days was something neither woman ever considered, this night however, they both discovered it's all they desired.

They had come to know each other, better than anyone else. Their common upbringings and shared tragedies only served to bond them closer. So neither woman was too surprised when they found themselves in Helena's bed, Myka laying on her back with Helena gently straddling her as she brushed kisses along her face, lips and throat, kisses that were becoming more heated by the second.

Seeing Helena's locket slip from under her shirt as she leaned forward for another kiss, Myka gently grasped the locket with a finger and slowly opened it. Helena studied her new lover's face as she examined the picture of the little girl inside. This photograph wasn't a silhouette like the others, but a normal picture of a little girl of eight years with Helena's very same dark hair and eyes.

"She's beautiful," Myka spoke as she softly stroked the locket, "just like you," she said looking into Helena's glistening eyes.

"Thank you," Helena whispered in return before consuming Myka's lips with her own once more.

They made love that night, slowly, reverently, for hours. Only when the sky began to lighten, the sun cresting over the horizon did they at last sleep soundly, each knowing they were in the arms of someone they cared for deeply.

* * *

Myka awoke late in the morning, with Helena still curled tightly into her side. She remembered the night they spent together and smiled softly at how beautiful Helena made her feel. She tightened her grasp on the other woman, accidentally stirring her awake.

"Good morning, darling," Helena spoke, her voice heavy with sleep.

Myka's smile widened as Helena placed a wet kiss against her throat.

"Good morning, I'm sorry I woke you."

"Never be sorry to wake me if it affords me the pleasure of seeing your lovely face," Helena remarked with another kiss, this time against Myka's lips.

When they finally parted, Helena watched closely as Myka bit her lip.

"What is it darling?" Helena asked rising on one elbow to look at Myka better. "I can see you're thinking about something."

Myka sighed. "I'm just wondering if this is all moving too fast. I've never done this before…made love with someone so soon after meeting them, I mean," she blushed.

Helena nodded understanding. "I haven't either. I think the fact that we have speaks volumes, that whatever this is between us is something special, something worth exploring and holding onto."

Myka remained silent, still thinking.

Helena slipped her hand over Myka's resting on her abdomen. "Myka, please look at me." When Myka complied Helena continued. "I've never thought much about fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it when things align, but with you, I find myself believing such things are possible. You're incredible, Myka," she whispered brushing an errant curl away from Myka's face as she watched the color rise to her cheeks in a blush.

"I think you're extraordinary, Helena," Myka admitted softly.

Helena grinned. "Thank you, darling." There was a pause as Helena gathered her thoughts, wondering if she should say aloud what she was thinking.

"What is it?" Myka asked and Helena looked at her sharply. "I can see you thinking too," Myka smirked and Helena had to laugh.

"Truthfully, I was just thinking about the Sterling Roses. It's rather providential you mentioned them."

"Why, what do they mean?" Myka asked, feeling her heart begin to race with anticipation of Helena's words.

"Lavender roses are very rare, Myka," Helena spoke softly. "They are often used as a sign of enchantment and…love at first sight," she finished looking into Myka's bright eyes, trying to decipher her reaction.

Myka was rendered speechless. Love at first sight. She had never really believed in the notion before. Attraction at first sight, certainly, but love? This wasn't some romance novel, but their lives…drawn explicitly together.

When Myka looked into Helena's warm eyes, she felt safe and alive and…loved, in a way she had never felt before.

Her answer to Helena was to rise up swiftly, the sheet pooling at her waist, long forgotten as she threw her arms around Helena to pull her closer into an embrace and kiss her fervently. Helena moaned at the contact, understanding exactly what Myka said without words, and answered her equally in return.


	7. Chapter 7

By the week's end, Myka and Helena had only learned more about each other, and fallen deeper in love. As they sat cuddled together on the sofa one night, a blanket spread over them both, Myka's gaze lingered once more on the photograph of Christina picking a small flower.

"The reason you love lilacs and forget-me-nots," Myka began softly, "do they have anything to do with Christina?"

Myka felt Helena tense slightly at the question and pulled her closer to offer comfort, feeling Helena relax as she released a quivering breath. "You're very perceptive, darling," Helena spoke awed by the woman in her arms.

"Will you tell me?" Myka asked softly, meeting Helena's eyes.

Helena smiled warmly as she read only sincerity and affection in Myka's features.

"Lilacs were given to me by Cataranga at Christina's birth. He was very ill at the time, in fact, he didn't live much longer; but this dear old man had lilacs sent to me in my hospital room, just minutes after delivering Christina. They were so beautiful, lavender color with such a sweet scent to them, just as my newborn baby smelled so sweet," Helena smiled softly as the memory.

"They also happen to mean 'first love', and that's exactly what Christina was," Helena remarked, tears glistening in her eyes. "My daughter was my first love, something Cataranga understood."

"That's beautiful, Helena," Myka breathed, placing a soft kiss to Helena's temple as they sat entwined together.

"Why do you also love forget-me-nots?"

"Ah, those were actually Christina's favorite flowers," she said brushing away a tear. "When she was very little, about three, I remember taking her to the park one afternoon and she found a patch of the flowers growing wild in the grass. She was so delighted with their tiny size. She thought they were baby flowers, just as she was my baby. The photograph on the wall there was actually taken that day in the park."

Both women looked to the silhouette of Christina picking a forget-me-not flower. "I always gave her those flowers on her birthday, and now they truly embody their name because when I see them, I remember her."

Myka held Helena tighter to her, offering comfort and love.

"She was my first love," Helena continued, "my only love, until now…" her words tapered off with the enormity of what she intended to say.

Myka's breath was stolen away as Helena's eyes stared into hers. Not knowing what to say, she covered Helena's lips with her own and soon any words were forgotten as actions spoke louder.

* * *

When Monday morning came again, Myka for once in her life, was reluctant to go to work. It was difficult leaving a warm bed that held a warmer body snuggled up against her side, but reality had finally invaded their remarkable week.

Myka showered quickly and turned to the kitchen to start the coffee maker she'd brought over with a few clothes, at Helena's insistence. As the scent of coffee brewing wafted through the air, she also started the kettle to boil, knowing it wouldn't be long before Helena would join her. She smiled at the thought. Her smile only broadened when she felt firm arms glide about her waist and a soft kiss pressed against the back of her neck.

"Good morning, love," Helena husked into her ear, sending a pleasant shiver down Myka's spine. She swiftly turned in Helena's arms and guided the other woman's lips to hers to kiss her properly.

When they parted, Helena had to take a deep breath before speaking, "What did I do to deserve such a kiss this early in the day?"

"I'm going to miss you today, Helena," Myka spoke softly, her eyes downcast, somewhat embarrassed by her admission.

Helena gently lifted Myka's chin to look into soft green eyes. "I'll miss you too, my darling, but we'll be back together tonight."

Myka nodded. "I know, it's just, this week has been so surreal."

"It has been rather like a dream, hasn't it?" Helena agreed.

"I just don't want to wake up and find that it has only been a dream after all."

"You won't, Myka, I assure you. I'll be right here waiting for you when you come home from work."

Myka knew Helena didn't necessarily mean anything by her use of the word 'home' but looking into Helena's dark eyes, she suddenly realized her home was wherever Helena happened to be. She cupped Helena's cheek as she fervently kissed her once more. She wasn't worried about waking from a dream anymore; Helena was warm and real beneath her fingertips.

* * *

"You are alive!" Pete declared walking into Myka's office and pulling her up from her chair to embrace her in a hug. He held her out at arms length to get a better look at her. "I was worried, Mykes, you wouldn't take my calls or answer my texts. I even dropped by your apartment a couple times and you were never there. Where were you?" he asked curious.

Myka blushed and for the first time Pete noticed how good Myka truly looked. No more dark circles under her eyes, and though she was still slender, he could see she didn't look quite so fragile anymore. And there was color to her cheeks. No, not just color, he mentally corrected, but a blush. Myka Bering was blushing.

"Oh my god, Mykes, you were with her, weren't you?" he asked excitedly.

Myka blushed even deeper if that were possible and nodded bashfully. "Yeah, I was with Helena," she answered softly.

"All week?" Pete persisted.

Myka rubbed the back of her neck nervously and nodded.

"Mykes! That's great!"

"It is? I mean you don't think it's all a bit…too much…too soon?" she asked biting her lip worriedly.

"Myka," he spoke seriously, "it's obvious this woman makes you happy, why would that be anything but good?"

"Thanks, Pete," she spoke softly, relieved by his reaction.

* * *

Helena slid into her usual booth at Leena's diner and tried to concentrate on the book she brought with her, knowing her attempt was futile. She wasn't a bit surprised when moments later a cup of tea and small plate of scones were placed before her, just as the owner herself slipped in booth opposite Helena.

"All right, spill it," Leena remarked with a grin on her face, her light eyes dancing. "Who was that woman you were with the other day and where have you been all week? I thought you had dropped off the planet or something."

Helena laughed lightly, her eyes sparkling. "That woman you mention, is Myka Bering and we have been…keeping company all week," Helena spoke trying desperately not to grin, also futile, especially seeing Leena's open-mouthed expression of surprise.

"You two are together?"

"Yes," Helena affirmed, "though I can hardly believe it myself."

Leena studied the woman before her carefully. She could easily see the happiness radiating from Helena and was glad to see it, but also reticent.

"What is it?" Helena asked seeing Leena's slight hesitance.

"Nothing," Leena tried to assure. Knowing her answer didn't suffice Helena, she took the woman's hand in hers. "I'm happy for you, Helena, truly. I just wonder if this isn't all too much too soon; you just met the woman after all. I just don't want to see you get hurt," she tried to explain. "You love with your entire soul, Helena Wells, and I don't want to see you shatter again. Make sure Myka is the right one."

Helena nodded. "I know, and I appreciate your concern, Leena, but I've all ready fallen in love with her."

Leena gasped surprised at how much Helena already felt for this woman, but she knew Helena spoke the truth.

"Then just be sure you bring her by the diner so I can meet this woman who has stolen your heart, properly," she admonished teasingly.

Helena grinned. "I promise, we'll be by some night for dinner and you can give your approval then."

* * *

Leena did approve of Myka, wholeheartedly when they finally met properly a few nights later. It was obvious to her why Helena fell for the other woman. Myka was caring, intelligent, considerate, and beautiful. And the way the two women interacted between one another was a sight to behold. They remained touching the entire time of their visit with Leena, almost as if they feared being separated in any way. Perhaps they did, Leena wisely surmised. Helena had enough tragedy in her life to warrant such fear, and judging by a look Leena briefly caught in Myka's eyes, she'd wager Myka had tragedy of her own.

As Leena continued to watch the two women sitting across from her that night, she reveled in their newfound happiness, but a slight frown escaped nonetheless. She knew both women had faced tragedy and both had fears. Her only hope was that fear didn't ruin the love that was so obvious between them.


	8. Chapter 8

Myka and Helena found each day to be wondrous now, the days turning to weeks. They went to the planetarium to gaze at stars; they attended the theater, movies, and art museums. Saturday afternoons they strolled through the park hand in hand, watching the sun go down. Sunday mornings they stayed in bed late, reading together. Monday afternoons always found them in the library with Mrs. Fredric, enjoying the older woman's story readings and conversing with her long after the story finished.

Myka worked less, preferring to spend as much time with Helena as possible; something that did not go unnoticed by her boss Artie.

"I don't understand what's gotten into her," he ranted one night at home. "Work always came first before, but now…she's so preoccupied with that woman. She's taking longer lunches, leaving work early every Monday afternoon and…"

"Shhh, you're working yourself up for no reason," Vanessa spoke soothingly, wrapping her arms around her husband. "She's fallen in love, her priorities have changed. Surely you remember what's it's like to be in love?" her blue eyes sparkled with fondness as she watched her husband's gruff exterior melt away.

"Remember? I'm still in love with you," he spoke earnestly.

"Good," was Vanessa's casual reply before giving him a soft kiss.

"You think Myka's really fallen in love with this woman? " Artie asked skeptically.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Vanessa asked. "Women can be quite compelling…and if you haven't all ready noticed, might I point out that I myself am a woman," she remarked with dancing eyes. "A woman you just mentioned you are in love with."

Artie barked out a laugh. "I am indeed," he smiled as he kissed his wife once more, all skepticism erased.

* * *

Myka spent less time in her own apartment as more clothes and accessories found their way into Helena's apartment. Helena even quietly cleared a space on a bookshelf for Myka to place her favorite volumes, rather than have them sit on the floor by their bedside.

The new lovers quickly immersed themselves in each other's lives, learning the other's habits and routines, meeting their friends…

They went out at night to meet Pete and Kelly for dinner. Pete took Helena aside and casually mentioned, "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you, okay."

"Okay…" Helena replied, her features reflecting uncertainty just before Pete engulfed her in a hug that took her breath away.

"You've made Mykes, happier than I've ever seen her," he said as he released her.

Helena smiled warmly then, knowing Pete was like a protective older brother to Myka and she was grateful Myka had such a person in her life.

"I intend to make her happy for a very long time," Helena confided and Pete nodded pleased.

"See that you do," he replied.

They met with Abigail for drinks. "I knew you had a secret admirer," Abigail spoke cheerfully as she watched the two women hold hands on the table and exchange loving looks.

"More like a woman who just happened to cross my path at just the right moment," Myka spoke softly and Helena held her hand a little tighter.

"Abigail is partially correct, darling. I do admire you, it's just no secret that I do."

Myka blushed from the compliment and Abigail laughed, delighted her friend had found happiness at last.

They invited Claudia and Steve over for pizza and a movie night. Both women shared amused looks, thoroughly enjoying the dynamic duos commentary on the film more than watching the actual film. Myka knew she had to introduce Pete to these two; they were all cut from the same cloth.

As both Claudia and Steve hugged the women goodbye for the evening, Steve whispered in Myka's ear, "You've given Helena peace," he smiled warmly, Myka returned the smile shyly, her eyes full of love as she glanced at Helena.

Claudia held onto Myka extra long. "You're perfect for HG. I've never seen her so happy as she is with you."

"Thanks, Claudia," Myka whispered back.

Claudia nodded. "Just don't break her heart," she spoke seriously.

Myka shook her head. "I don't want to," she answered just as serious.

As dear as their friends were to them, Myka and Helena both enjoyed most the nights when they stayed inside, just the two of them. Cooking dinner together, laughing and talking across the table. After cleaning up, they often sat cuddled on the sofa, reading separately or reading aloud to each other. Sometimes they slow danced to soft music in front of the large window overlooking the bustling city below. Always they made love, in the way they said each other's names, in the soft way they had of looking at one another, in the gentle caress of a hand along soft skin.

* * *

Soon the weeks turned to months. Early November found Helena and Myka surrounded by their friends, in their apartment for another dinner and a movie night. Conversation and banter flowed easily between the friends.

Hearing Claudia and Steve address Helena as HG, Pete promptly questioned, "HG?"

Helena sighed even as Claudia, Steve, and Leena all smirked at her. "My name is Helena G. Wells – HG Wells. My parents thought they were being quite clever," she explained.

"HG Wells," Pete tried the name out, nodding appreciatively. Pulling a raspy voice, he spoke, "I could have been a scientist."

Helena looked at him confused, looking to Myka for an explanation.

Myka rolled her eyes at her friend's antics. "He's trying to be funny with his Marlon Brando impression of his role in HG Wells' 'The Island of Dr. Moreau.'"

"I see, a movie version of a well loved book. I make it a point never to watch movies based on books. They never do justice to the original story," Helena spoke.

"Ah, you don't know what you're missing, HG," Pete admonished.

"Actually, I think I do."

"So what does the G stand for anyway?" he asked curious.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with," she replied.

"Ah, come on, HG, what is it?" Claudia added her plea.

"It's because of you that I now find myself in this predicament. You're the one who started calling me HG," Helena accused the young girl.

"You signed my first paycheck Helena G. Wells, of course I would figure out you're HG Wells. Who wouldn't capitalize on that?" she asked defensively.

Myka laughed. Helena turned at the sound. "And what exactly are you laughing at?" she asked with mirth in her eyes.

Myka smiled warmly. "Well, Claudia does have a point. HG Wells is well loved, something you have in common," she spoke slipping her arm around Helena's waist and pulling her close. "Besides, your secret is safe with me."

"Ah, Mykes, you know?" Pete whined. "Now you've got to tell us."

"Sorry, Pete, my lips are sealed."

"It can't be any worse than yours, _Ophelia_."

Myka shot him a stern look even as the rest of the table burst out in laughter.

"Don't worry, darling," Helena whispered in her ear, "I happen to think your name is beautiful." Myka smiled warmly, gathering Helena closer to her.

Later that night in bed, Myka pulled Helena close to her as she whispered, "I love you, Helena _George_ Wells."

"And I you, darling," Helena replied brushing a kiss against the arm that held her before drifting asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

The days began to speed past, Myka loving every moment spent with Helena. They shared so many moments of pure joy. Soft touches and kisses early in the morning. Light banter over the breakfast table, Helena drinking her usual tea and Myka her coffee. There were phone calls at work, just to say hello and I love you, and post-it notes with words of affection left in the most curious places that always brought a soft smile to the recipient. Life with Helena and their close friends was turning out rather perfect, to Myka's mind. Almost too perfect, as if her world would come crashing down at any second.

It nearly did when she received a phone call from her mother one weekend.

"Mom, is everything all right? How's dad?" she asked and hated the panic she heard in her voice.

"Everything's fine, Myka," Jeannie Bering assured. "Your father's as stubborn as ever."

Myka let out a sigh. "Then why are you calling, Mom?"

"Can't I call just to check in?" she asked affronted.

"You can," Myka conceded, "I've just never known you to call without a specific reason," she argued.

Now it was Jeannie's turn to sigh. "I worry about you, Myka, so stubborn like your father and just as closed off. I never know what's going on with you."

"I'm fine, Mom, really," she answered, softening her tone as she thought of Helena. "I'm actually feeling happier than I have in a long time."

"I'm glad, Myka," she replied. "So, I do have a more specific reason for calling," she assented and Myka could only roll her eyes. "Thanksgiving is coming up in just over a week. I don't suppose you'd be willing to take time off work to come home?" she asked.

Myka hadn't been home for Thanksgiving in years. Even when she lived in Denver, she rarely made it home for the holiday. She was both frustrated by the phrasing of the question, which really wasn't an invitation, and the guilt she felt once more of disappointing her family.

"No, I don't suppose I am. I'm pretty busy," she answered cryptically.

"It's just, Tracy and Kevin will be here this year, and Tracy is getting so big now with her pregnancy. I thought it might be nice to have you home too."

"I'm sorry, Mom, but I can't really leave work right now, too much to do."

"Told you the girl wouldn't come, Jeannie," Warren Bering spoke up beside his wife where he could hear the one-sided conversation. "Too busy in the big city for family affairs," he grunted.

Myka bit her lip, holding back angry tears at her father's words.

"All right, maybe Christmas then?" her mother asked hopeful.

"Maybe," Myka answered knowing it was just as doubtful. She'd much rather spend the holidays, well all her days really, with Helena. It didn't even occur to Myka to mention Helena to her parents. Her life with Helena was separate from her family and so perfect. She didn't want to explain, and possibly defend her relationship with Helena to her family right now.

Frustrated by the phone call that seemed like an intrusion into her life somehow, stirring up emotions she didn't want to evaluate, Myka made love to Helena that very afternoon with a desperation she couldn't quite account for. Helena felt her desperation and matched it with her own insatiable need for the other woman.

At last, both lying exhausted from their tryst, Myka curled into Helena's side as the other woman gently stroked her fingers through unruly curls. The air was heavy, Myka deep in thought, Helena patiently waiting for Myka to speak what was on her mind.

"Do you remember that night you saw me through my apartment window?"

Helena wasn't startled by the question. She knew Myka had received a phone call earlier that left her feeling upset, which then led to this moment alone in their bed.

"Of course I remember, darling. I'm not likely to ever forget. You were so distraught."

Myka nodded, her hold on the other woman tightening. "The reason you saw me crying that night…I had just returned from Colorado Springs. It was the anniversary of Sam's death, two years ago, and my father had a heart attack."

"I'm so sorry, Myka, is he alright?" Helena asked concerned.

Myka sighed. "Yeah, he's fine."

"I can easily understand your heartache that night, to have to deal with both Sam's memory and your father's illness."

"I was already upset that weekend thinking of Sam, but then when I got the call about my dad…it scared me, you know? We've never had anything to talk about really, except books. I was afraid I'd get there too late, never to hear him say he actually loved me."

"Oh, darling, I'm sure he loves you."

Myka shook her head, tears beginning to fall. "I'm not so sure, Helena. I'm not the son he always wanted. When I saw him in the hospital, the first thing I wanted to say was that I loved him, despite all our differences, but he didn't even give me the chance. All he did was criticize me as usual, for living so far away, for not eating enough, asking why I wasn't running the company yet. I can never please him; everything I do is a disappointment to him."

"I'm sorry, love," Helena tried to soothe. "I know it's difficult trying to live up to such expectations, especially when it's those we love who hold them."

"You've had the same issue?"

"Similar," Helena assented. "My father did have a son, my brother, Charles, who he doted on. I was only a daughter in comparison. I had to work twice as hard just to show I was as capable as my brother. I did eventually garner my father's favor, but then I became pregnant and he and my mother both felt it would be best if I married and settled down rather than strike out in a career of my own."

"But you didn't?"

"No," Helena laughed lightly. "If I was to marry, it would be on my own terms, to someone I loved beyond reason, and who loved me equally in return. Someone who wouldn't make me forfeit my dreams, but help me realize them."

"Did you ever make amends with your family?"

"Eventually," Helena spoke softly. "Christina was so lovely, her charms were impossible to resist. My family became enamored of her and because of Christina, we were at last able to set aside our differences and at least be civil to one another."

"You must have been an amazing mother, Helena," Myka spoke gently. "I'm sure Christina always knew how much you loved her."

Tears gathered in Helena's eyes at her lover's words. "I hope so. But I still couldn't protect her, save her…"

"You had no control over her death, Helena, any more than I had control over Sam's," Myka spoke adamantly, at last realizing the truth of her statement. "Would you blame me for Sam's death?"

"Of course not, darling."

"Then how can you blame yourself for Christina's?" she argued.

Helena looked at the woman before her, green eyes so intense with love and concern. "I know logically I shouldn't, but…"

"I know," Myka spoke softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Helena's face. "I've felt the same way," she said laying her head against Helena's shoulder.

Helena nodded, holding Myka close. "I will say, you've made me happier than I've been since Christina."

"I'm glad," Myka whispered as another silence fell between them, Helena beginning to run her fingers through Myka's curls.

As several long moments went by, Helena thought Myka had drifted off to sleep only to hear another question voiced.

"Do you celebrate Thanksgiving?" Myka asked quietly.

Helena stopped running her fingers through Myka's hair, momentarily caught off guard by the question, but soon resumed her ministrations. "I haven't for a few years now. I hadn't really felt much to be thankful for," she admitted softly.

Myka raised her head to meet Helena's eyes. "I'm sorry, Helena," she spoke so empathetically it brought tears to Helena's eyes.

"No need to be, darling. In any case, I did celebrate the holiday with Christina. She loved it. Some years we'd be invited to spend the meal with friends, other years it was just she and I sharing the day quietly at home together. Why do you ask, darling? Do you need to go home to…"

"I think I'd like to have Thanksgiving here," Myka quickly interrupted, "with you and all our friends. That is if you're okay with it?" she asked shyly.

Helena smiled. "I think it's a lovely idea. I've found myself feeling very thankful these past weeks. Thankful for you, Myka," she spoke as she lifted her hand to slip into curly tresses.

Myka answered her with a kiss that ignited their seemingly never-ending desire for each other once again. 

* * *

Despite their initial misgivings over family concerns, Thanksgiving dinner in Helena's (their) apartment was a success. Artie and Mrs. Fredric found they shared a mutual love of ancient history and conversed most of the night. Claudia and Pete talked movies all night. Steve, Abigail and Vanessa spoke of their interest in the arts; and Leena and Kelly shared favorite recipes, Kelly always looking for a new food dish to please Pete's never-ending appetite.

As Helena and Myka's eyes met across the table, they shared the same thought; this was their family.

Still, they shared a sigh of relief when they settled against the sofa in a now blissfully quiet apartment, having said their last goodbyes to everyone.

"I think tonight was a success," Helena spoke into Myka's soft curls.

"Mmm," Myka replied.

"Tired, my love?"

"Mmm."

Helena laughed. "Small wonder, we have had rather a long day, getting up near the crack of dawn to start on the feast."

"Not to mention I used so much energy chasing Pete out of the kitchen every other minute."

Helena laughed again. "I don't know how Kelly manages him, he's into everything at once."

"I'm grateful she married him, finally took away some of the strain on me to keep him out of trouble."

"Yes, well, can I offer you a warm bubble bath to help relax you from all the stress of the day?" Helena asked kindly.

Myka looked up at Helena. "That depends. Will you be joining me?" she asked.

Helena's eyes darkened at the thought of sharing a bath with Myka, something they hadn't actually done yet. "If you desire it, I'd be glad to join you."

"I'd be _thankful_ if you would," Myka responded playfully, rising from the sofa and offering Helena her hand. Helena took it without hesitation.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to all those still reading.**

* * *

December arrived and with it, Myka and Helena found themselves at an ice skating rink in the middle of the city, at Myka's excited insistence. Helena thought to resist until she took one look at her lover's excited gaze and knew resistance was futile in the face of such loveliness.

"Tell me again why you so enjoy being outside in freezing weather, slipping across a patch of ice on purpose," Helena intoned.

Myka laughed and pulled their linked arms closer together. "It's 42 degrees, not freezing," Myka admonished lightly, "and I used to ice skate when I was a kid. It helped me think."

Helena looked at her critically. "I skated a lot," Myka admitted under her gaze.

"Did you think about anything specific, or just generalizations?" Helena asked curious.

Myka shrugged. "Oh, the usual stuff a young girl thinks about I guess. Sometimes I skated to think through a problem I was having with homework; more often," she admitted, "I skated to think about why I was so different from family and my peers. I was a bit of an awkward teenager, to say the least," she tried to laugh.

Helena recognized undertones of a self-conscious woman. She squeezed Myka's gloved hand and whispered, "It's our differences that make us unique, Myka, that make us beautiful; and you are so very beautiful," she said looking at Myka's profile that showed evidence of a blush forming.

Myka cleared her throat abruptly. "So, what about you? You don't enjoy ice skating?" she asked.

Helena sighed. "I used to love watching Christina ice skate. She insisted I take her here every year from the time she was very young. At first I'd hold her in my arms and skate, then I was holding her hand, and eventually, her skills far surpassed my own, and I was content to watch her as I tried to catch up," she spoke softly.

"Helena," Myka spoke gently, "I'm sorry, if I'd known, I wouldn't have suggested we come."

"Cajoled is more like it," Helena teased making Myka smile.

"Truthfully, Myka, I'm glad we came. You help me remember Christina in ways I didn't think possible; you both share so many similar interests and qualities. She would have loved you," Helena spoke sincerely.

Myka looked up sharply at her statement to look into glistening brown eyes, soft with unshed tears. "I love you, Helena," she whispered.

Helena smiled. "I love you was well, darling." Not caring they were in the middle of a skating rink, filled with strangers, Helena leaned in to place a chaste kiss on Myka's lips before continuing skating, arms still linked.

* * *

"Helena, Mother and Father are asking when we can expect you home for Christmas."

"Charles," Helena sighed over the phone.

"You are planning to come home for Christmas this year, aren't you?"

"I know I said I would this summer, but to be truthful, I've met someone, and I think I'd rather spend the holiday with her."

"Her?" Charles asked not surprised by the pronoun, but wanting to clarify.

"Yes, Myka. We've been seeing each other for almost three months now, and I just don't want a trip to England to interfere with what is growing between us."

"I see," Charles remarked. "She makes you happy then?"

"Inexplicably happy, yes," she agreed.

"I'm glad, Helena, truly," he spoke and Helena could hear the sincerity in his voice.

"Thank you, Charles," she nearly whispered, her emotions getting the better of her.

"Well then, why don't you bring her home with you? I'm sure Mother and Father would be glad to meet this woman who holds your heart."

"I don't know, Charles," she spoke hesitantly, thinking of Thanksgiving and Myka's reluctance to see her own family.

"Helena, you know our parents have long since realized you're free to love whomever you choose…"

"No, it isn't that," Helena interrupted. "We've certainly come to terms that I will love whomever I desire."

"Then what?"

"I'm not sure Myka is ready to meet family. It's been my impression she doesn't have a good relationship with her own family, and to meet mine might prove too much just yet. If our relationship progresses as I hope it will, you'll all be meeting soon enough, just not for Christmas."

"That sounds…promising."

"I hope it will be."

"Alright, all in good time then."

"Thank you, Charles."

* * *

As Myka and Helena settled on the sofa for the evening, fingers interlaced, Helena mentioned her earlier conversation with Charles.

"My brother called me this afternoon."

"Oh? Is everything alright?" Myka asked concerned.

"Perfectly. He just wanted to know if I was planning to go home for Christmas or not."

"Are you?" Myka asked slightly troubled.

Helena tightened her hold of the other woman, brushing a quick kiss into soft curls. "No. I told him I'd much rather spend this Christmas with you."

"And he was okay with that? Your family won't be disappointed?"

"Well, I had mentioned this summer of possibly returning to England for Christmas. I haven't been back since Christina," Helena cleared her throat as Myka gently squeezed her hand in comfort.

"Charles did mention I could bring you with me, if you'd like," Helena began cautiously.

Myka looked up at Helena wide-eyed. "Oh, Helena, I don't know…it's so much…I mean I don't know if I could even get the time off work. Artie is already cross with me for taking as much time off as I have lately," she rambled.

Helena smiled warmly. "It's alright, Myka. I already told Charles Christmas might be too soon for that. I just wanted to bring it up in case you did want to go." Myka visibly relaxed.

"What about your family, darling? Are they expecting you home?"

Any relaxation Myka felt seconds before vanished at the question as she moved to sit up, away from Helena's arms. "They always expect something of me," Myka sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck. "I'm sure they expect me to come home, especially this year since Tracy is due to deliver close to Christmas."

"Your sister is expecting?" Helena asked surprised at the news. "How lovely for her," she spoke softly.

Myka looked at Helena, her tension turning to concern. "I didn't mention it before because…" Myka struggled to find the right words.

Helena's eyes softened at seeing Myka's discomfort on her behalf. "It's alright, darling. The mention of children doesn't bother me, more so now that you've helped me to remember all the good about Christina's life."

Myka leaned forward to brush a soft kiss against Helena's lips, her fingertips lingering against her cheek. "I'm glad," she whispered.

Overcome with emotion, Helena ran her fingers through Myka's curls and smiled. "Perhaps we should do some shopping for the new arrival?"

"Like a sweater-set or something?" Myka asked perplexed at the thought.

"Or something," Helena replied amused. "Do you know what she's having?"

Myka furrowed her brow. "A boy, I think."

"You're not sure?" Helena asked confused and Myka looked back embarrassed.

"I haven't really been kept up do date on the matter," she spoke deflated with an apologetic smile.

"Well, no matter. These days they make plenty of clothing and toys that can suit either gender quite nicely," Helena spoke and Myka couldn't help noticing how much Helena seemed to know about the subject. "But all this baby talk reiterates my original question, do you need to go home for Christmas, because if so, we could…"

"No, that's not necessary," Myka adamantly cut her off. "Tracy and I don't have the greatest relationship, as I mentioned before, and I'm sure I'd just be in the way, anyway."

Myka shook her head at the thought of introducing Helena to her sister. Helena, who never failed to surprise Myka with her endless knowledge of various subjects, and Tracy, who only seemed interested in the domestic aspects of life. The last time they talked, she teased Myka the only person close to a husband she had, was Pete, her work-husband. Pete of all people! Never mind the fact, Myka never even considered marriage. Not even with Sam had she seriously given it thought. Too much an independent woman, as her father would say not without a hint of derision. Myka refused to think about her family's reaction to Helena.

"All right," Helena spoke gently, noticing Myka didn't elaborate on the subject.

Myka startled out of her thoughts, returning her attention to Helena. "Besides, Christmas with just the two of us is sure to be much more pleasant and…intimate," Myka added, placing a kiss against the hollow of Helena's throat, trying to soothe over any lingering doubt.

Helena sighed at the contact as she wrapped her arms around Myka once more. "An accurate statement if ever I heard one," she agreed and smiled when Myka brushed another kiss against her skin. "Besides, we can always mail a package to your sister for the baby," she added in afterthought.

Myka sighed, resting in Helena's arms. "Can I ask you something?" Myka asked cautiously.

"Of course, love, anything," Helena readily assented.

Myka worried her lip a moment, contemplating if she really wanted an answer at all. "Do you think you'd ever want another child?"

Helena was taken aback by the question, though with their line of conversation, it was perfectly natural to ask. She grasped the locket around her neck without thought.

Myka saw the innate gesture and looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, Helena, you don't have to…"

"I'd honestly never given it a thought," Helena spoke softly, ignoring Myka's apology. "Christina meant everything to me…and when she died, I was torn with grief. Some of my colleagues might even venture to say mad with it, for giving up a promising career in architecture to become a florist," she laughed lightly. "The idea that I could go through that kind of grief again is…unthinkable," she shuddered.

"I hope you never do," Myka whispered, holding her hand.

Helena's dark eyes met Myka's bright ones. "Having another child, I hadn't considered it before," she admitted, "but now…with you, Myka…" she trailed off, shyly meeting Myka's wide-eyed stare. "Perhaps it's something to consider after all."

Myka startled at the implication. She was startled further at how easily she could envision Helena holding a small child in her arms. She was suddenly terrified at the prospect. Terrified that vision wasn't something she wanted; more terrified it was.

She rose suddenly from the sofa, away from Helena. "I think…I think I'll go to bed. I have an early day tomorrow remember? Artie wants me to look over some reports…and I need to get some sleep," Myka rambled nervously not meeting Helena's concerned gaze.

"All right, darling," Helena assented; looking remorseful their conversation had turned uncomfortable for her lover. "I'll be in shortly."

Myka nodded before hurrying into the bedroom. Helena sighed heavily when she heard the soft click of the door closing. She ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. Any serious conversation about family always had Myka deflecting if not downright avoiding any details on the topic, so she'd been understandably taken off guard about the children question. Upon reflection, she was surprised to find the idea of having a child with Myka something she could desire…eventually…possibly.

Myka spent long minutes, tossing and turning in bed. No matter what position she tried, sleep eluded her. She finally realized it was Helena's absence that kept her awake. They had never gone to bed separately before she realized and Myka missed Helena's scent, her warmth, and the soft touch of her embrace.

Myka felt relief when she finally heard Helena come into the bedroom and ready herself for bed. Waiting patiently until she felt the dip in the mattress of Helena shuffling under the covers, Myka instantly turned into Helena's side gently placing an arm across her stomach to hold her close. Helena gasped in surprise at the touch, thinking Myka was already asleep.

"I'm sorry," Myka mumbled into Helena's neck.

"For what, darling?"

"For running away. You implied you may want a child with me…it startled me," she admitted.

Helena rubbed her hand along Myka's arm soothingly but remained silent.

"I just don't know if I want children…I never considered them before," Myka spoke softly.

"I don't know that I want another child myself, Myka, but it's…a thought."

"A thought?"

"Yes, just a thought. Now, don't let it trouble you any longer and go to sleep," Helena spoke comfortingly.

Myka lifted her head to place a soft kiss against Helena's lips. "Goodnight, Helena."

"Goodnight, Myka," she spoke as Myka rested her head against her beating heart. They fell asleep, entwined with one another.


	11. Chapter 11

**This was a difficult chapter to write on multiple levels, thus the long delay in updating. I rewrote it many times, and finally had to let it go. This is the result.**

Striding with purpose, Myka stepped through the department store doors, out of the chill of the early afternoon. While writing in her daily planner that morning, she realized the day marked the three-month anniversary of her time with Helena. It was difficult for her to believe three months had already passed. She could easily remember their first meeting as if it was yesterday and the memory brought a soft smile to her lips.

As she moved through the store she realized she had no idea what to give Helena. She passed the jewelry department with barely a glance. Despite the locket she wore unceasingly, and earrings every now and then, Helena didn't wear much jewelry. Besides, three months was a little soon for jewelry, Myka mused.

She continued through the store, stumbling upon the baby section. Recalling the conversation with Helena from the other evening, Myka felt drawn to the colorful clothes on display. She really should look for something for Tracy's baby after all, she rationalized.

A small lavender onesie caught her attention and she held up the article of clothing for further inspection, amazed at the tiny size of the garment. There was a small flower embroidered in the center, a flower she couldn't decipher, but was sure Helena would be able to. The outfit seemed like something Helena would possibly choose for their child. Myka startled at the thought. Their child? Where did that come from? An image of Helena holding an infant in her arms overwhelmed Myka's senses and she quickly put the offending clothing back on the hanger, staring at it as if it would jump at her.

She turned away from the baby clothes resolutely, and sighed in frustration, even more at a loss of what to give Helena for a gift. Maybe flowers? After all, flowers were partially responsible for bringing them together. Satisfied with that idea, Myka left the department store, leaving behind anymore unsettling thoughts.

* * *

As Myka walked from the subway to Helena's apartment, she pulled her coat collar up to guard against the chill. A quick glance skyward revealed gray skies that promised snowfall. She actually looked forward to the snow as it reminded her of the more pleasant memories of home, not to mention it made the world seem softer somehow. Snow also meant staying warm indoors in front of the fire, reading with Helena, and perhaps more...she thought as a smile formed on her lips and she began to walk more briskly.

Apparently Helena shared her idea because Myka walked into the apartment to find the coffee table pulled close to the fireplace with two place settings for dinner. Helena stood over the oven, checking on whatever was the cause of the heavenly smell wafting through the room. Myka quietly set her satchel down and hung up her coat. She took off her heels so they wouldn't sound on the hard wood floor and approached Helena, slipping her arms around the bent waist.

Helena yelped in surprise at the intimate contact when she hadn't heard Myka enter, but turned to see dancing eyes just before Myka kissed her deeply.

Pulling back, Myka watched as Helena slowly opened her eyes, her lips still parted and her chest heaving slightly trying to catch her breath.

"You look so beautiful in that dress, Helena," Myka spoke in explanation, "I couldn't resist myself."

"I'm not complaining," Helena spoke huskily, the kiss still affecting her.

Myka smirked at Helena's reaction. "What's the occasion for all this?" she asked, gesturing to Helena's dress of deep purple with a low neckline and also the setting at the coffee table.

"No occasion," Helena spoke somewhat nervously. "Isn't it alright for me to want to spend a special evening in with the woman I love?"

"Of course," Myka assented, "but it must be something, otherwise you wouldn't look slightly nervous," Myka spoke knowingly, reading Helena's gesture of running her fingers through her hair.

"You really do know me better than anyone else," Helena spoke, gently caressing Myka's cheek. "All right, love. Tonight is rather special, as it marks our three month anniversary."

Myka's eyes brightened. "Oh, Helena," she said gently resting her head against the other woman's forehead. "You remembered."

"Of course. Anything to do with you Myka Bering, I will remember and cherish forever."

"As it so happens, I remembered too and I have something for you," Myka spoke as she turned away to gather the flowers she put down with her satchel. As she turned back to Helena, she watched as the other woman's eyes lit up.

"Lilacs! Darling, you remembered," Helena spoke awed as she gathered the lavender flowers in her arms to take in their sweet scent.

Myka watched her adoringly. "Of course. Anything to do with you, Helena Wells, I will remember and cherish forever," Myka repeated Helena's words softly as she slipped her arms around Helena's waist to pull her close.

"This explains where Claudia disappeared to this afternoon," Helena smirked.

Myka had the grace to look bashful. "I didn't think it would do very well to get the flowers from anywhere else but your shop,"

"Quite right," Helena agreed with a smile.

"I'm sorry if the gift isn't very original. I know you see and work with flowers everyday…"

"Nonsense," Helena interrupted. "Being a florist, it's a common misconception that I wouldn't want a gift of flowers myself, but I enjoy receiving flowers as much as anyone. Even more so when I receive them from a beautiful woman I happen to love, who took special care to remember my favorite flowers to give me on our three-month anniversary," Helena smiled seductively.

Myka's breath hitched at the sight. Carefully, she removed the bouquet from Helena's arms, setting them on the counter so she could draw Helena closer to her. The two women kissed once more, it rapidly turning more passionate.

Finally Helena managed to break away. "Enough of that now, we'll partake of dessert later," she said delighting in the way she could still make Myka blush with her implication. "For now I've prepared us a lovely dinner that I don't intend to waste."

"It smells, wonderful, Helena. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yes, you can pour the wine while I dish the food onto our plates," she said turning back to the oven.

Myka carried two glasses to the coffee table and gently fingered the pale lavender roses she found in a vase on the table. She smiled as she looked at Helena's turned back. The woman had thought of everything. She returned to the kitchen to help carry the plates to the living room and together they sat comfortably on pillows side by side on the floor, leaning against the sofa and looking into the fire as they shared stories about their day; Myka carefully omitting her brief excursion to the department store.

It wasn't long before they finished dinner and began to 'partake of dessert' as Helena so eloquently put it. Myka found Helena hard to resist when she wore a dress that offered so much soft skin to touch and to taste. Helena found it equally difficult to resist Myka and soon enough, her hands slipped under Myka's silk blouse to touch heated skin.

They made love in front of the fireplace, and when the rug proved not comfortable enough, they moved to the bedroom. They spent hours revisiting every curve, every dip and hollow. Helena reveled in the soft moans and pleas Myka made as lips and teeth touched her throat and chest and delighted in the feel of Myka's hands running through her hair, pulling her ever closer.

* * *

The following morning, after the two women had finally slept for a few hours, they silently held each other in bed as they watched the snow continue to fall on the world outside. Helena lied on her back with Myka's head resting against her shoulder, gently running her hands through dark curls she adored.

Watching the snowfall was serene, as Helena reflected on the evening before. The flowers, dinner, a night of passion; it had all gone perfectly except for one detail she hadn't managed to carry out. She had every intention of following through with her plan completely, but the desperation they both felt, to touch, taste and feel the other, far eclipsed anything or any question she had to ask.

"What are you thinking about?" Myka interrupted her silent thoughts, her voice still groggy from sleep.

Helena tensed slightly at the question, wondering if she should ask Myka now.

Moving her head ever so slightly to meet Helena's eyes at the sudden tenseness she felt under her, Myka spoke concerned, "Helena?"

Helena smiled reassuringly. "You know me so well, Myka," she spoke tightening her hold on the other woman. "There is something that's been on my mind of late, something I want to ask you."

"What is it?" Myka asked, her mind racing with any number of possible questions Helena might have.

Helena dipped her hand into the little drawer of her nightstand. Two slender fingers grasped a small object and held it out for Myka to see. "I'm so in love with you, Myka Bering. Will you marry me, darling?" she asked softly.

"Helena," Myka breathed, sparing a brief glance at the diamond and amethyst engagement ring before sitting up in bed, clutching the sheet firmly to her chest. She looked at Helena beside her, seeing a soft smile on her lips. A smile that began to falter as Myka shook her head, distressed.

Myka's first thought at looking upon Helena's expectant face was to answer with a resounding yes before kissing her senseless. But then fear and doubt instantly crept in, her mind racing in a million directions.

Helena was actually proposing marriage? They never talked about marriage, were they ready for that? She'd never given marriage serious consideration before. The proposal was so sudden and unexpected, and yet Helena obviously didn't think so. Of course they loved each other, she loved Helena more than she loved anyone, but marriage? Did that mean Helena also wanted children? They had barely discussed it the other night, yet hadn't Helena sounded wistful at the mention of children? Myka wasn't sure. In fact, she wasn't sure of anything anymore, but she did know marrying Helena would mean she would have to at last involve her family in their relationship. They didn't know anything about Helena, how was she supposed to tell them of their engagement all of a sudden?

"Myka, what is it?" Helena asked worried, seeing the panic and turmoil crossing her lover's features.

"I can't…I can't do this. I can't marry you, I'm sorry," she said rising from the bed, moving around the room to dress quickly.

Helena sat stunned, watching Myka move about their bedroom. It wasn't until Helena realized Myka was hurriedly placing clothes and books into a suitcase that she sprang into action. She slipped from the bed then, hastily throwing on her robe before trying to comfort her lover.

"Myka, please think rationally for a moment. What has you so frightened that you're reacting this way?" Helena asked truly perplexed.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Helena. You've made me question everything I ever thought I knew about myself. Two years ago I hadn't even moved in with Sam after dating for nearly a year, but with you, I practically move in overnight. Only three months, Helena! It's too soon for marriage," Myka ranted.

"I didn't realize time was a qualifier for love," Helena spoke gently. "If it makes any difference, I knew I loved you the moment you first kissed me, Myka, mere hours after knowing you. In that context, three months seems perfectly reasonable."

She shook her head defiantly. "It's too soon for marriage…children…family," Myka argued as she continued to fill the suitcase, carefully avoiding looking at Helena.

"Children?" Helena asked surprised.

"Yes, children! You mentioned it the other night."

"Myka, you asked me a question, I answered honestly, that's all," Helena replied more calmly than she felt. "I thought I made it clear that I'm by no means certain I'd want another child again after the loss I've endured with Christina," she spoke softly.

Myka stilled her motions but didn't respond or meet her lover's eyes. Helena sighed heavily, running fingers through dark tresses. "I admit, that conversation made me realize having children with you is something I could envision, but only if you desired it too.

"Myka you must know I would never pressure you into something you don't want, whether that be children…or marriage," Helena spoke sadly. "My intent in giving you the ring was to convey that I desire to spend the rest of our lives together. I thought you felt the same way, but obviously I was mistaken," she spoke sorrowfully.

Myka looked up then, her heart breaking at the sight of Helena's distress. "I do love you, Helena," she whispered.

Glistening brown eyes met tearful green ones. Helena stepped forward and cautiously took Myka's hand in hers, relieved when Myka didn't pull away. "This sudden fear isn't only about having children though, is it? There's something else that frightens you," she spoke knowingly, gently guiding Myka back to the bed to sit side by side.

Myka hastily brushed away tears with the hand that wasn't gripping Helena's. "It's all been like a dream," she spoke shaking her head. "You saw me in a window," she laughed shakily, "delivered flowers to me and we fell in love like out of some romance novel, but this isn't fiction, Helena, and reality has finally set in. I can't live up to this perfect life we've created anymore."

"I thought you were happy with this life we've created," Helena spoke hurt.

Myka grasped Helena's hand tighter, willing her to understand. "I've never been happier than with you, Helena, and our friends who all love and support us unconditionally."

"Then why?" Helena asked.

"A marriage between us…it means family. _My_ family."

Realization came to Helena then. "You still haven't told your family anything about us," she spoke softly.

Myka shook her head, tears tracing down her face.

"You've been lying…"

Myka dropped Helena's hand and stood abruptly, crossing her arms across her chest. "If you mean omitting our relationship to my family, then yes, I've lied. It's a force of habit as it keeps my family from always being disappointed in me," Myka spoke defensively.

"Oh, darling," Helena spoke gently, "I meant you're lying to yourself in thinking that their opinion of you has any real bearing on the person you are, the person I love."

Myka looked startled. She knew logically Helena was right, that her family's opinion shouldn't matter to her, but emotionally it was difficult to shake off a lifetime of trying to please them with one conversation.

"You know who you are, Helena, and you're unafraid and unapologetic to be exactly who you are. Your family loves and accepts you for that."

"They do now because I made them understand I wouldn't settle for anything less," Helena explained. "You can do the same with your family."

"How?" Myka asked incredulously. "How do I make them understand the love I feel for you when I don't understand it myself? It's not something I can adequately put into words."

"Love is not meant to be explained, only felt and accepted," Helena replied gently.

Myka shook her head. "I don't have your strength," she whispered.

"I think you do, you just don't believe it. Be brave, Myka, I need your strength. I don't want to lose you," Helena pleaded softly.

"I'm sorry," Myka spoke defeated, "I'm obviously not the person you thought I was, the person you deserve."

Helena made no reply, too stunned by the turn of events the morning had brought upon their happiness. She understood Myka's dilemma, she'd been there herself once with her own family. She knew Myka was running away; as Helena herself had done when she'd had Christina. She knew Myka needed to work this out on her own terms, but the knowledge of that didn't make the situation any easier to bear.

Myka felt ready to break at the sight of Helena looking so heartbroken. She hated herself for being the cause of it, but better to do this now, she resolved, than further into their ever deepening relationship.

"I'm so sorry, Helena," Myka apologized again as she placed a brief kiss in Helena's hair before grasping the suitcase.

"I'm sorry too, Myka," Helena spoke looking away.

Myka turned away, tears blurring her vision as she walked out of the room, out of the apartment and out of Helena's life.

Helena remained sitting on the edge of the bed until she heard the apartment door close. The sound of it startled her into gasping for breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. It was only then she noticed she still held the ring between her fingers, shining in the soft morning light as if eager to be placed on Myka's finger.

She collapsed onto the bed, curling herself around Myka's pillow, taking in the scent of her. Could it only have been mere minutes ago they had been so perfectly happy together? Helena didn't think it possible as she let out a choked cry before burrowing her face further into the pillow. Their whirlwind romance appeared to be at an end as abruptly as it had begun.


	12. Chapter 12

**This story is nearing its end. I think there will be two possibly three more chapters. Thanks to those still reading.**

Helena stumbled into Leena's diner and blindly sat in her usual booth, her normally pristine hair slightly mussed and dark circles under her eyes.

Leena observed her friend's entrance with a frown. Instinctively knowing Helena needed comfort, she poured a cup of tea before slipping into the booth opposite Helena. She silently pushed the cup and saucer before her, patiently waiting until Helena took a long sip before speaking.

"What's happened, Helena? Is Myka all right?"

Helena smiled wanly, her eyes red-rimmed from nearly two days of incessant crying. "Myka left me."

"No," Leena breathed surprised. "Everything was going so well. You two are perfect for each other."

"Perfect," Helena muttered. "That's the very word Myka used to describe our life together. She felt she wasn't able to live up to it; that her family wouldn't understand."

"Her family?" Leena asked confused. "What do they have to do with your relationship?"

"Nothing at present," Helena spoke, "but I…I proposed to Myka…and she panicked."

"Oh, Helena," Leena spoke softly, reaching for her friend's hand. "I'm so sorry."

Helena waved her off. "Entirely my own fault. I should have known it would be too soon for Myka. I pushed her…"

"She loves you," Leena spoke firmly. "Helena, the way you two look at one another, you must know how much she loves you. She's just frightened."

"I know she is," Helena replied as she combed fingers through her hair. "But I wasn't able to reassure her, comfort her, no matter how I tried."

"You should go to her, try to talk to her again," Leena offered.

Helena shook her head. "No, Myka needs to work this out on her own terms. I'd just make it worse I'm afraid."

"What are you going to do then?"

"I thought I might go to London. I haven't been back in years, and I did plan to go home for Christmas…before Myka," she spoke softly. "The holiday isn't too far off and I think the distance will do us both some good," she spoke resignedly.

"When will you be back?"

"I'm not certain. There's Christmas and then New Year's of course. I'm sure Steve and Claudia can manage the shop quite nicely while I'm gone…" she trailed off, lost in thought.

"Hey, you will be back, won't you?" Leena squeezed Helena's hand looking slightly worried.

Helena startled out of her thoughts, meeting Leena's concerned eyes. She smiled briefly. "I'll be back," she assured, "I just need…time...to get away from things…to gain some perspective."

"Just don't stay away too long, you're needed here you know."

Helena nodded, but uncertainty remained.

* * *

Pete had had enough of the silent treatment from Myka. It had been almost a week now since he burst through her office door without knocking, catching sight of silent tears tracing down her face. It was hard to tell who Myka was angrier with in that moment, him for seeing her in such a state or herself for being so vulnerable.

He had rushed to her side, wanting to know the reason for her tears, but Myka only pushed him away, saying she had called off her relationship with Helena. She refused to give him any details and quite literally pushed him out of her office. She'd avoided him ever since, but no longer he vowed.

He wasn't going to stand by while he watched his best friend throw herself back into working ten, twelve hour days, barely eating or sleeping. He noticed Myka had already lost weight, the circles under her once bright, but now listless eyes, becoming a permanent feature.

He stood outside her closed door, taking a deep breath. Learning his lesson from before, he made sure to knock before entering. He still didn't wait for Myka's invitation though and she glared at him upon entry.

Pete held up his hands as if in surrender. "I know, you don't want to talk about it, but Mykes, we're best friends. I know you're not eating, not sleeping and seeing you so sad makes me sad, and I don't know, maybe I can help," he offered hopefully.

Myka sighed heavily, not having the heart to enter into another argument.

Pete heard her sigh and took it for the surrender it was, pulling up a chair across from her desk. "Okay, so what happened?" he asked. "You and HG were practically joined at the hip, even literally, I'm sure…"

"Pete!" she yelled exasperated.

"Right, sorry," he said shaking his head. "Don't need that image, but really, Mykes I thought she was the one."

"She is the one," she whispered, brushing away a lone tear. Clearing her throat she added, "Helena asked me to marry her."

Pete's eyes widened in surprise. "Well, that's great, isn't it? I mean, you two love each other so why wouldn't it be?"

"Marriage changes things, Pete," she tried to argue.

"No it doesn't," he scoffed. "I love Kelly the same now as I did before we were married. If anything, I think I love her more, so maybe there is change, but in a good way."

"No, you don't understand. It means family, my family, her family, possibly having a family of our own."

"And you don't want to have a family?"

"I don't know, Pete," Myka spoke forlornly. "I don't know what I want anymore. I never thought of having kids, you know? But with Helena…I just don't know."

"Is she pressuring you to have kids?" Pete asked doubtfully.

"No," Myka admitted. "She isn't even sure she would want children again, after what she went through with Christina," she spoke softly.

"Then what's the issue? It sounds like you're both on the same page."

"But what if someday Helena decides she does want another child and I don't? I'd be holding her back, keeping her from something she wants."

"Mykes, I think you're over thinking this way too much. HG loves you. She asked you to marry her. I think all she wants from you is _you_."

"But it isn't just me," she spoke heatedly, rising from her desk and crossing her arms across her chest. "There's my family to contend with too."

"You think they'll disapprove of your marriage to HG?"

Myka laughed bitterly. "Well they disapprove of me on principle, so yeah, I think they'll disapprove of my marriage to Helena."

"So? Why do you care?" Pete asked standing beside her. "HG, Helena is the love of your life; you know that."

"I know," Myka agreed, wiping away at the steady stream of tears befalling her. "But I think it's too late. I walked out on her. How can she ever forgive me, Pete?"

Pete gently engulfed Myka in a firm hug, feeling her tears soak into his shirt as she cried on his shoulder. "Mykes," he spoke gently rubbing her back, "I've never seen two people more in love, I mean besides me and Kelly," he quickly backtracked. "I'd bet a year's supply of cookies that HG would forgive you anything."

Myka emitted a soft laugh. "You're that sure?"

"I am, and you should be too."

Removing herself from Pete's embrace, she quickly dried her eyes. "I want to be, but there's so many things I have to work out. My family…my dad…" she trailed off, shaking her head as another tear escaped.

"I know," Pete nodded. "But you're one of the strongest people I know, Mykes, and I know you can do this."

"I'm not so sure," she said shaking her head despondently.

"Mykes," Pete protested seeing her begin to shut down again.

"No, just, please, let me be," Myka pleaded.

"But you're miserable without her, and you're making me miserable because you're miserable," he complained.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you too, but you're just going to have to deal with it. Disappointing people seems to be the one thing I'm actually good at."

"Myka."

"Pete, just go, please," she begged. Without another word, Pete did as she asked, Myka firmly closing the door behind him before sagging against it as a sob wracked her body.

* * *

The flight from New York to London was tortuously long for Helena who had found it nearly impossible to sleep, every waking thought consumed of Myka. Traversing through the throng of people at the airport did nothing to lighten her mood or relieve her exhaustion as she adjusted dark glasses, trying to block out the light from her sensitive eyes.

In the sea of strangers, one face stood out familiar to her. She very nearly broke out into a run at the sight of him. Hurrying her pace as best she could toting a bag over her shoulder and a suitcase behind her, Helena did at last drop everything to fling herself into the gentleman's arms.

"Oh, Woolly, you are a sight for sore eyes," she breathed into his shoulder.

"And you're lovely as ever. It's good to have you home, Helena," he spoke before trying to release his hold, but Helena only clung tighter. He quickly tightened his hold of her again, sensing she needed the extra long embrace.

"There now," he soothed feeling a dampness though his shirt from Helena's tears. "It's not serious as all that now?" he said setting Helena back to look at her. Carefully he removed her dark glasses to look into bloodshot eyes, blinking furiously against the light. He replaced the glasses.

"It appears you were being quite literal then about a sight for sore eyes," he quipped.

Helena laughed through her tears.

"And I meant what I said too, Helena, you're as lovely as always."

She shook her head. "Oh, Woolly, I'm a mess," she said running her fingers through her mussed hair.

"You're sad, Helena, but lovely still," he spoke giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Gathering her suitcase in one hand, he wrapped the other around her slight shoulders to guide her through the crowded airport. "Come along, you can tell me all about it on the drive."

Helena leaned her head against her friend's shoulder, feeling at ease for the first time since Myka walked out of her life nearly two weeks ago.

"I'm so in love with her, Woolly," she spoke softly.

"I know. Tell me all about her."


End file.
